^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTfTJ* 

LIBRARY  OF 

W.     E.    FIELD 


V 

LI' 4 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


THE    SPIRIT    OF 
THE    PINES 


BY 


MARGARET   MORSE 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON,    MIFFLIN   &   COMPANY 

(£be  fltoersibE  press,  Cambribrje 
1906 


COPYRIGHT   1906  BY   MARGARET  F.  MORSE 
ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Published  Februar 


TO   THE  MEMORY   OF  E.  H.  D. 


JL1- 


CONTENTS 


I.     THE    MEETING    OF    THE    WAYS     .            .          I 
II.     LETTERS 13 

in.   "LIGHT  BETWEEN  THE  TREES"         .     99 


THE  MEETING  OF  THE  WAYS 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 


jjOU  surely  cannot  refuse  a  traveler 
shelter  from  so  pitiless  a  storm  !  " 
"  Tou  surely  cannot  intrude  when 
I  tell  you  that  I  wish  to  be  alone ! " 
"  I  regret  forcing  myself  upon  your  un- 
willing  hospitality,  but  the  water  is   rising 
rapidly,  and  I  am  in  danger  of  drowning." 

Outside  in  the  rain  and  darkness  stood  the 
man,  his  coat-collar  buttoned  tightly  about 
his  throat,  his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes.  In- 
side, framed  by  the  low  doorway,  the  slender 
black-robed  figure  of  the  girl  was  silhouetted 
against  the  light. 

"  The  situation  would  be  tragic  if  it  were 
not  so  humorous,"  the  man  resumed.  Then 
he  broke  off,  shaken  by  a  violent  attack  of 
coughing. 

The  girl  sprang  across  the  narrow  hall,  un- 

3 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

chained  and  flung  open  the  half-closed  door. 
The  wind  swept  roughly  past  her,  and  the 
rain  struck  her  with  angry  force. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me,"  she  cried, 
"  that  you  were  "  — 

"  Dying  ? "  the  man  asked.  "It  scarcely 
seemed  necessary  in  the  face  of  such  a  storm. 
Take  care !  you  '11  spoil  your  gown." 

The  girl  was  feeling  of  his  coat  with  quick, 
nervous  fingers,  and  her  skirt  trailed  in  a  pool 
of  water. 

"  You  'd  better  leave  me  on  the  mat  to 
drip,"  he  advised. 

"  You  shall  go  directly  upstairs  and  put 
on  dry  clothes,  then  come  down  to  the  fire," 
she  ordered. 

A  door  leading  from  the  kitchen  was  thrown 
open,  and  the  bustling  farmer's  wife  appeared. 

"  I  was  sure  I  heard  the  front  door,"  she 
exclaimed  triumphantly,  "  but  Steve  and  the 
children  thought  't  was  only  the  wind.  Why, 
Master  David !  "  —  the  big  stranger  was 
suddenly  gathered  into  a  pair  of  motherly 
4 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

arms.  "  You  knew  where  to  come,  did  n't 
you ! " 

"  Indeed  I  did,  Nurse,  though  they  as- 
sured me  at  the  station  that  you '  had  comp'ny 
and  couldn't  accommodate  me.'  I  thought 
you  would  surely  put  me  up  for  the  night," 
he  ended  rather  wearily. 

"  You  shall  stay  as  long  as  ever  you  like," 
the  woman  told  him. 

Then  she  broke  off  suddenly  with  a  quick 
glance  at  the  dark  figure  in  the  doorway. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot !  "  she  ended  helplessly, 
"And  you  two  children  don't  even  know 
each  other.  Miss  North  —  Dr.  Leigh- 
ton." 

The  girl  put  out  her  hand  eagerly.  "  We 
feel  like  old  friends  already,  Nursie  dear," 
she  said.  "  We  've  been  so  disagreeable  to 
each  other.  At  least,  it  was  I,  of  course,  who 
was  selfish  and  hateful  and  tried  to  send  Dr. 
Leighton  away.  Now  I  'm  sorry,  so  please 
let  him  stay  as  long  as  he  likes." 

*'  You  know  how  she 's  always  tyrannized 

5 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

over  me  !  "  their  hostess  declared  to  the  new- 
comer. "  She  made  me  promise  "  — 

"  Never  mind,  Nursie.  Anyway  it 's  all 
your  fault  because  you  spoiled  me.  Now  we 
must  take  care  of  Dr.  Leigh  ton.  He  's  cold, 
and  he  V —  she  stopped  abruptly  — "wet," 
she  concluded.  Something  in  the  man's  dark 
eyes  forbade  her  saying  "  ill." 

The  farmer  appeared  in  the  kitchen  door- 
way, then  strode  forward  with  hearty  greeting, 
and  a  troop  of  children  surrounded  Leigh- 
ton,  until  their  mother  drove  them  laughingly 
away. 

"  Go  and  help  get  supper,  the  whole  pack 
of  you! "  she  commanded  cheerfully.  "  Now 
come,  hurry  upstairs,  Master  David." 

"  I  feel  seven  years  old  again,"  laughed 
the  man,  as  he  obediently  followed  her. 

A  merry  confusion  ensued.  The  hitherto 
quiet  household  awoke  to  a  new  sense  of  life 
and  importance. 

The  fire  in  Constance  North's  little  sitting- 
6 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

room  had  burned  low,  and  a  rosy  light  sur- 
rounded the  girl  in  her  high-backed  chair, 
and  the  man  who,  from  the  opposite  side 
of  the  chimney  corner,  contentedly  watched 
her. 

"  Is  n't  it  odd  ?  "  Constance  remarked, 
staring  into  the  embers.  "If  you  and  I  had 
met  at  a  dance  to-night,  we  probably  should 
have  thought  it  quite  an  occasion —  two  idol- 
ized children  of  one  nurse,  meeting  at  last." 

"  Probably,"  the  man  agreed,  "  and  we 
should  have  talked  a  lot  of  twaddle  about  its 
being  a  coincidence,  I  don't  doubt." 

"  And  we  meet  in  the  wilds  of  New  Hamp- 
shire and  sit  here  by  the  fire,  like  two  old 
cronies  who  have  known  each  other  a  life- 
time." 

"Little  things  seem  big  down  there  in 
the  world,"  the  man  mused.  "  Up  here  big 
things  seem  little." 

He  turned  from  the  girl  to  the  fire. 
"  One's  personal  troubles,  for  instance,  sink 
into  insignificance." 

7 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

"I  wish  I  could  feel  it  so!"  Constance 
cried.  "  Mine  seem  only  the  more  vivid." 

Leighton  cast  a  swift  glance  at  the  black 
gown.  "  I  'm  sorry,"  he  said.  "We  're  both 
in  trouble.  Perhaps  we  can  help  each  other." 

"  I  've  been  helped  to-night  —  roused  out 
of  my  selfish  idleness,"  Constance  admitted. 

"  And  you  really  would  have  driven  me 
out  into  the  storm  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  why  ?  You  stood  there  in 
the  shadow,  a  great  broad-shouldered  figure. 
I  actually  resented  your  strength  and  your 
independence.  Then  I  heard  you  cough  "  — 

The  man  fidgeted.  "  Absurdly  incongru- 
ous," he  murmured.  Then  he  laughed. 
"Why  is  it,  I  wonder,"  he  asked  quizzically, 
"  that  a  girl  always  feels  obliged  to  abuse  an 
able-bodied  man ;  often  he  positively  pines 
for  pity,  while  the  really  unfortunate "  — 
He  broke  off  abruptly. 

"She  likes  to  be  needed,"  Constance  said. 
"  It  was  always  the  forlorn  doll  without  hair 
or  clothes,  whom  other  children  shunned,  that 
8 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

I  loved  best.  Then  there  was  the  homely 
kitten,  and  the  delicate  puppy.  I  believe  I 
would  caress  a  sick  porcupine." 

"  Doubtless  !  "  laughed  Leighton,  "  and 
not  even  know  when  it  pricked  you." 

"  I  have  always  foreseen  that  I  shall  marry 
a  querulous  cripple,  and  end  my  days  fetch- 
ing and  carrying  for  him,"  Constance  re- 
sumed. 

"  That  would  be  nice  for  the  cripple  and 
rather  beneficial  for  you.  Do  you  know," 
he  said  presently,  as  the  girl  did  not  speak, 
"  we  never  could  have  met  at  that  dance.  It 
was  always  meant  that  we  should  meet  here. 
Fate  has  been  saving  up  a  pleasant  little  sur- 
prise for  all  these  years." 

"  Oh  !  "  Constance  exclaimed  sympathet- 
ically, "that  is  my  way  of  looking  at  things. 
I  did  n't  know  it  was  yours." 

"  Surely  you  must  allow  even  a  realist  the 
luxury  of  an  occasional  dream,"  the  man  re- 
turned. "  I  suppose  we  all  are  given  two 
sides  to  keep  one  from  wearing  threadbare." 
9 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

The  girl  rose.  "  Since  we  understand  each 
other,  there  is  something  I  wish  to  show 
you,"  she  said. 

She  took  from  a  drawer  of  the  desk  a 
small  oval  frame  and  put  it  in  his  hand. 
The  man  found  himself  smiling  involunta- 
rily into  the  sunny,  upturned  face  of  a  child. 
At  last  he  lifted  his  eyes  from  the  miniature 
to  the  girl  who  stood  staring  into  the  fire. 

"  So  this  is  what  you  have  lost,"  he  said 
slowly. 

"  This  is  what  I  have  lost,"  she  repeated 


Suddenly  she  turned  and  faced  him,  her 
hands  clenched  tightly  before  her.  "He  was 
all  I  lived  for,"  she  said.  "  Why  must  I  live 
without  him  ?  " 

Leighton  leaned  his  arm  against  the  chim- 
ney-piece and  looked  at  her  musingly. 

"  We  all  ask  ignorant  questions,"  he  said. 

"  Only  yesterday  I  was  saying,  (  Why  must 

I  die  ?  '    I  felt  quite  abused  when  the  doctor 

ordered  me  to  Colorado,  and  grudgingly  al- 

10 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

lowed  me  a  few  weeks  here.  It  was  a  partic- 
ularly mellow  day,  and  somehow  I  felt  that 
the  world  was  rather  a  good  place." 

Constance  was  resting  her  chin  in  her  hand, 
and  the  light  fell  across  her  clear  profile. 

"You  have  beauty  and  health,"  he  re- 
marked contemplatively. 

The  girl  did  not  look  up. 

'« Where  is  the  use  of  the  lip's  red  charm, 
The  heaven  of  hair,  the  pride  of  the  brow  ?  " 

She  murmured  more  to  herself  than  to  him. 

Then  they  both  stared  in  silence  into  the 
embers.  At  last  the  man  stirred.  "  Listen," 
he  said. 

The  rain  was  beating  relentlessly  upon  the 
roof,  and  the  wind  howled. 

Constance  raised  her  head. 

"They  both  want  it  all  their  own  way, 
don't  they  ! "  she  said  understandingly. 
"  Hear  how  the  wind  is  protesting,  and  it 
does  n't  do  him  a  bit  of  good,  poor  old 
thing." 

For  some  time  they  sat  together  in  the  red 
ii 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

glow — a  magic  circle  apart  from  the  world 
of  reality.  At  length  the  girl  rose  and  lighted 
her  candle. 

"Good-night,"  she  said,  putting  out  her 
hand.  "  To-morrow  we  can  begin  again." 

The  man  smiled  into  her  eyes. 

"  To-morrow  we  can  begin  where  we  Ve 
left  off,"  he  answered.  "  Good-night." 


II 

LETTERS 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 


DAVID   TO   CONSTANCE 


FRIDAY. 
DEAR  FELLOW  TRAVELER  :  — 

(OOD-MORNING— and  what  a 
good  morning  it  is !  I  trust  you 
are  drawing  this  glorious  Octo- 
ber air  deep  into  your  lungs,  and 
with  every  breath  thanking  fortune  that  you 
are  alive  and  likely  to  keep  on  living.  They 
have  bundled  me  up  like  a  mummy  and  set 
me  out  on  my  balcony,  where  the  sun  lies 
warm  and  bright.  Powerless  to  resist,  I  must 
sit  here  till  burned  to  a  cinder,  if  they  chance 
to  forget  me.  So  this  is  the  penalty  I  pay  for 
that  short  battle  with  the  elements  yesterday. 
Solitary  confinement  for  at  least  a  fortnight. 
The  walk  in  the  storm  is  what  I  'm  alluding 

'5 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

to.  It  was  your  blessed  fire  that  saved  me 
from  ruin.  Did  you  see  that  big  man  who 
went  out  just  now  with  —  I  am  sure  —  an  ex- 
pression of  fiendish  glee  on  his  face  ?  When 
I  was  a  doctor  —  you  see,  I  put  it  in  the 
past  tense,  for  my  short  period  of  authority 
is  over  —  I  wonder  if  I  took  such  delight  in 
laying  down  the  law  to  my  helpless  patients. 
I  suppose  I  did.  I  must  n't  talk,  the  great 
Mogul  says  — and  how  wisely !  —  for  I  have 
no  voice.  I  mustn't  have  visitors,  for  they 
will  excite  me.  He  must  have  caught  aglimpse 
of  you.  But  oh  !  blessed  omission,  he  has 
said  nothing  about  letters  —  and  so  let 's  write 
to  each  other.  Nurse  Martin,  who  by  the 
way,  does  n't  come  under  the  doctor's  ban, 
promises  to  be  postmistress,  and  so  it  only 
remains  with  you  to  complete  the  arrange- 
ment. Our  correspondence  lacks  the  spice 
of  secrecy,  but  perhaps  it  does  savor  of  origi- 
nality, for  I  never  wrote  letters  to  a  girl  whom 
I  had  met  just  the  evening  before.  Did  you  ? 
—  to  a  man,  I  mean. 

16 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

Seriously,  I  want  to  know  what  is  happen- 
ing in  that  great  nature  world  which  is  yours 
for  the  asking,  and  where  I  long  to  join  you. 
From  my  sky  parlor  I  saw  you  pass  by  this 
morning.  Was  the  ground  all  springy  under- 
foot after  the  rain,  and  was  the  little  path  up 
the  mountain  carpeted  with  pine  needles  and 
fallen  maple  leaves  ?  I  hope  you  will  always 
wear  that  white  dress.  I  don't  like  black.  I 
thought  your  hair  was  brown  till  I  saw  it  in 
the  sunshine.  I  hope  you  don't  resent  these 
personal  remarks.  If  you  do  you  have  only 
to  say  so.  Not  that  it  will  affect  me  in  the 
least,  but  it  will  soothe  your  feelings. 

Write  to  me,  if  you  will,  as  you  talked  to 
me  last  night,  and  I  will  answer  you,  not  plea- 
santly perhaps,  but  —  or  because  —  frankly. 
A  man  who  has  had  to  bear  the  knocks  of 
this  world  has  learned  a  few  truths,  but  of 
what  use  are  they  unless  he  pass  them  on  ? 

So  here  is  my  humble  beginning.  It  is  for 
you  to  say  whether  or  not  it  shall  continue. 

D.  L. 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 


II 


CONSTANCE  TO   DAVID 


FRIDAY  EVENING. 
DEAR  PRISONER  :  — 

IO\J  are  generous  to  exonerate  me, 
but  in  spite  of  it  I  don't  feel 
blameless.  Some  one  once  said 
to  me,  "  I  wish  I  ever  knew  how 
to  act  thejirst  time!"  And  I  heartily  echoed 
her  sentiments.  In  the  course  of  human 
events,  it  is  hardly  likely  that  I  shall  find 
a  second  dripping  man  upon  my  doorstep, 
so  of  what  use  this  bitter  fruit  of  experi- 
ence? 

I  wish  you  had  been  with  me  this  morn- 
ing to   follow  the  little  cart-path.    Do  you 
remember  it  ?  winding  through  rolling  pas- 
18 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

ture  land,  then  dipping  into  a  young  wood 
of  slender  white  birch.  They  were  set  there, 
I  am  sure,  just  to  make  a  becoming  back- 
ground for  some  flaming  maples.  High  up 
on  the  mountain,  I  stretched  out  among  the 
pine  needles  —  oh,  so  soft  and  springy  !  — 
and  stared  up  at  the  patches  of  sky,  —  tiny, 
but  so  blue,  —  through  the  fringy  tree-tops. 
Does  the  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  pines,  and 
that  hot  smell,  bring  back  long-ago,  far-away 
dreams  to  you  ?  Did  you  ever  feel  that  the 
sounds  one  goes  to  sleep  with  and  wakes  up 
with,  in  childhood,  influence  one  all  through 
life?  Whenever  I  hear  whispering  pines  I 
am  back  in  the  old  nursery,  slipping  off  to 
sleep,  or  dreamily  waking.  Do  you  know 
what  I  longed  for  there  ?  —  The  strength  and 
independence  of  those  great  trees.  I  felt  like 
a  prostrate  one  near  me,  and  envied  him  his 
peace.  He  need  n't  straighten  himself  up  and 
go  on  living. 

Poor  prisoner  —  or  poor  me,  rather!  — 
certainly  it  is  the  irony  of  fate  that  you  should 
19 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

be  huddled  on  a  balcony,  while  I  am  literally 
steeped  in  nature.  She  merely  intensifies 
whatever  mood  one  is  in,  it  seems  to  me, 
and  this  morning  in  her  vivid  array  she  was 
distinctly  depressing,  like  some  proud  beauty, 
fair  of  face  but  cold  of  heart. 

You  may  be  wondering  what  I  saw  from 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  or  if  I  was  so  blind 
that  I  saw  nothing.  Below  me,  shimmery 
hills  stretched  far  away  into  the  blue  distance, 
and  again,  below,  a  river  threaded  its  way 
through  cool  meadow  land  where  white  vil- 
lages clustered.  Far  away,  like  mere  specks, 
were  dotted  the  spires  and  chimneys  of  a 
busy  town.  From  my  mountain-top  it  all 
looked  so  tiny  and  unimportant,  like  a  doll's 
village  which  one  sets  out  on  a  table  to 
amuse  a  child.  One  could  scarcely  believe 
that  real  people,  with  real  joys  and  sorrows, 
lived  there. 

You  wise  man  who  have  learned  great 
truths  in  the  world,  can  you  tell  me  if  to  the 
angels  who  look  down  upon  us,  our  lives 

20 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

seem  so  utterly  trivial?   Then  what  is  the 
meaning  of  it  all? 

C.  N. 

I  did  n't  know  that  you  were  spying  upon 
me  from  your  watch  tower.  Thank  you  for 
a  timely  warning. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 


III 


DAVID  TO   CONSTANCE 


THE  WATCH  TOWER, 

SATURDAY  MORNING. 
[ND  so,  dear  Fellow-Dreamer,  — 
for   here,   again,  we    are    surely 
companions,  —  your   mind   loves 
to   turn  toward   "  old,  unhappy, 
far-off  things,  and  battles  long  ago." 

I  know  of  no  pastime  more  fascinating  than 
to  indulge  in  this  shadowy  remembrance — 
or  more  fatal.  That  is,  granting  one  has  defi- 
nite work  to  accomplish,  as  most  of  us  (thank 
heaven  !)  have. 

Other  sounds  which  fill  my  dream-world, 
beside  the  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  pines 
(was  n't  I  born  and  brought  up  among  the 
22 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

tree-tops  !),  are  the  splashing  of  waves  on  the 
shore,  and  music  when  one  is  half  awake. 

When  I  was  a  little  chap  I  was  waked  one 
night  by  a  woman's  voice  singing.  I  sat  up 
in  bed,  quivering  with  excitement,  ready  to 
throw  myself  at  that  woman's  feet,  and  to  die 
for  her  sake.  It  was  a  ridiculous  little  song 
she  sang,  the  grown-ups  told  me  afterward  — 
something  about  "Birdie  having  lost  her 
wings  "  —  and  she  was  a  tightly-laced  crea- 
ture, forced  to  loosen  her  gown  when  she 
sang.  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  more  dis- 
enchanting? But  the  impression  survived, 
and  to  this  day  I  recall  the  episode  with  a 
pleasant  thrill.  Which  all  proves,  I  suppose, 
that  it  is  n't  what  our  minds  receive,  but  the 
mood  in  which  they  receive  it,  that  counts. 

Not  that  theories  matter  in  the  least.  I  like 
to  swallow  things  unlabeled  —  don't  you  ? 
They  seem  less  medicinal. 

And  so  you  stood  on  your  mountain-top 
yesterday,  and  the  world  seemed  shadowy  and 
far  away.  A  mere  question  of  point-of-view, 

23 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

I  imagine,  since  you  ask  my  opinion.  That 
reminds  me  that  I  Ve  been  climbing  a  little 
mountain  of  my  own  all  my  life,  trying  to 
get  above  the  rush  and  noise,  to  get  a  good 
perspective.  I  wonder  if  you  have  too,  and 
if  we  suddenly  have  perched  on  the  top 
together!  On  my  peak  there  is  no  more 
"  touching  things  with  muffled  hands,  and 
seeing  through  a  veil."  We  just  live  in  the 
sunlight.  And  that  which  down  in  the  world 
was  called  strange  becomes  natural,  and  sor- 
row becomes  bearable  (I  will  claim  no  more 
than  that)  because  we  see  clearly.  And  bet- 
ter still,  prejudice  and  habit  having  slipped 
away,  we  see  each  other  clearly.  Do  you 
suppose  that  is  the  reason  we  already  have 
grown  to  know  each  other  as  easily  as  chil- 
dren do  ? 

You  see,  up  here  we  need  n't  hide  our  feel- 
ings under  a  mask  of  indifference.  Let 's  tell 
each  other  our  troubles,  let 's  help  each  other, 
and  let 's  be  happy  !  It 's  our  birthright,  and 
nothing  need  take  it  away. 
24 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

Did  n't  you  put  poor  old  Nature  rather  at 
a  disadvantage  yesterday  ?  I  imagine  she  takes 
large  views,  and  resents  the  personal  attitude. 
Besides,  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  her  you 
must  first 

"  Lift  up  the  latch 

And  ask  your  neighbor  in  ! " 

Since  I  am  a  literal  person,  quite  lacking 
imagination,  will  you  tell  me  if  you  'd  hon- 
estly like  to  change  places  with  that  prostrate 
pine  ?  Being  unfettered  has  always  seemed  so 
attractive  to  me  that  I  am  curious  to  know 
your  argument  in  favor  of  inanimate  objects. 

Will  you  write  me  about  some  of  these 
things  ? 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 


IV 


CONSTANCE  TO   DAVID 


ON  PINE  MOUNTAIN, 

SUNDAY. 

AM  sitting  among  the  pines  try- 
ing to  "let  Nature  in,"  and  so, 
dear  mentor,  to  better  understand 
her  and  you.  Think  of  the  pathos 
in  trying  to  be  natural. 

Your  letter  interested  and  exasperated  me 
—  th'e  latter  especially.  Where,  O  wise  man, 
is  your  wisdom  in  condemning  my  "  personal 
attitude,"  as  you  coolly  call  it  ?  Surely  we 
must  remind  the  world  that  we  have  some 
degree  of  individuality  —  meagre  though  it 
be.  Now,  to  me,  feelings,  thoughts,  and  ideas 
are  the  realities  of  life.  Another  may  find 
26 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

satisfaction  in  adding  columns  of  figures,  and 
in  paralyzing  one  with  his  glibness  at  names 
and  dates.  Oh,  how  useful  information  bores 
me  !  Not  that  I  am  proud  of  this  —  neither 
am  I  ashamed,  for  it  is  inborn  with  a  love  of 
animals  and  a  hatred  of  superficiality. 

Don't  you  agree  with  me  that  feelings  are 
the  most  real  part  of  us,  and  therefore  worthy 
of  our  profound  respect?  We  make  our- 
selves act  and  speak  with  due  propriety,  but 
our  feelings  are  as  independent  as  they  were 
the  day  we  were  born,  if  we  had  them  then. 
At  least  we  had  them  soon  after,  for  I  am 
cut  to  the  heart  now  by  the  same  silly  things 
that  made  me  howl  with  grief  at  the  age  of 
three. 

And  you  say  we  are  unfettered  —  meaning, 
I  suppose,  that  we  can  make  of  ourselves 
what  we  will. 

Nature  is  in  a  gentle  mood  this  morning — 
or,  according  to  your  theory,  is  it  I  who  am 
in  the  gentle  mood,  and  so  she  is  able  to  im- 

27 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

press  me  in  that  way  ?  With  her  soft  wind  and 
her  caressing  sunshine,  she  almost  makes  me 
feel  at  peace.  Almost,  I  say,  but  therein  lies 
a  vast  chasm.  Real  peace  can  come,  it  seems 
to  me,  only  through  forgetfulness,  and  as 
long  as  I  live  I  must  remember.  Do  you 
know  what  it  is  to  be  eternally  tortured  by  a 
grief — to  force  it  from  you  by  day  only  to 
dream  of  it  by  night?  You  cannot,  else  you 
would  not  be  so  calm. 

Theories,  I  find,  are  all  well  enough  to 
apply  to  other  people's  troubles,  but  when 
we  are  crushed  by  a  great  personal  loss  they 
are  crushed  too.  Even  the  philosopher  in 
"  Rasselas  "  was  so  weakly  human  as  to  grieve 
when  his  daughter  died.  You  remember  ? 

The  woods  are  filled  with  noonday  drowsi- 
ness. Perhaps  this  is  an  enchanted  forest,  and 
under  these  whispering  branches  I  may  fall 
into  a  dreamless  sleep,  and  wake  in  a  hundred 
years.  What  a  blessed  rest  it  would  be !  Per- 
haps one  might  forget.  But  then  you  would 
n't  be  here,  and  for  that  I  should  be  sorry. 
28 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

This  I  must  tell  you  by  way  of  encourage- 
ment :  The  spirit  of  your  mountain  peak  I 
actually  do  feel.  The  chilling,  mental  fog  — 
I  remember  how  that  phrase  of  Stevenson's 
pleased  me  when  I  chanced  upon  it  —  is  slip- 
ping away. 

And  so  we  will  be  frank  with  each  other, 
and  you  will  criticise  me  to  your  heart's  con- 
tent. For  that  is  what  "telling  each  other 
our  troubles  "  will  amount  to,  I  foresee.  It 
is  good  of  me  to  submit  to  such  an  agree- 
ment, for  of  all  things  in  the  world  I  partic- 
ularly detest  criticism  —  a  sign  of  vanity, 
egotism,  and  selfishness,  I  hasten  to  say,  to 
spoil  your  opportunity. 

If  you  think  me  worth  arguing  with,  keep 
on  writing  to  me. 

C.  N. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 


DAVID   TO   CONSTANCE 


THE  WATCH  TOWER, 

MONDAY. 

JY  humble  greetings  to  you,  O 
Spirit  of  the  Pines!  And  so, 
feelings,  thoughts,  and  ideas  are  to 
you  the  realities  of  life,  you  say. 
The  inevitable  result  of  an  introspective 
nature,  and  an  ample  bank  account,  I  an- 
swer. Were  it  necessary  for  you  to  scrub 
floors  for  a  living,  you  would  not  dwell  so 
largely  on  things  metaphysical.  And  inci- 
dentally, if  some  one  before  you  had  not 
"  added  columns  of  figures  "  rather  well,  you 
would  now  be  in  no  position  to  ignore  this 
practical  side  of  life. 

30 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

Thoughts  are  all  very  well  in  their  way, 
fair  dreamer,  but  in  the  world  of  reality  there 
is  prejudice  in  favor  of  accepting  deeds  as 
their  lawful  coin. 

Amiel  —  who  must,  I  know,  be  a  friend 
of  yours —  touches  upon  the  subject,  you 
remember?  Something  about  its  being  less 
convincing  to  talk  of  one's  powers  of  self- 
sacrifice  than  to  do  a  simple,  generous 
deed. 

The  idea  may  be  commonplace  and,  as 
such,  beneath  your  notice. 

Speaking  of  ideas  —  yours  of  falling  asleep 
for  a  hundred  years  seems  to  me  picturesque 
but  unsatisfactory.  I  fear  the  world  would 
have  journeyed  on  some  distance  during  your 
oblivion,  and  your  equipment  for  fighting  the 
dragons  in  the  path  would  be  rusty.  I  wonder, 
though,  why  we  need  challenge  these  responsi- 
bilities of  ours  when  we  meet  them.  Suppos- 
ing we  stretched  out  a  friendly  hand  and  bade 
them  welcome,  do  you  believe  they  would 
prove  such  monsters  after  all  ? 

31 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

You  think  me  harsh,  unsympathetic,  I 
know  —  but  remember  I  have  had  to  be  a 
practical  dreamer,  and  so  I  give  practical  ad- 
vice. 

What  meaning  did  the  woods  hold  for 
you  this  morning,  I  wonder  ?  Your  step  was 
lighter  as  you  passed  by.  But  why,  may  I 
ask,  did  you  wear  that  black  gown  to-day  of 
all  heaven-sent  days  ? 

Nurse  Martin  has  just  left  me  after  feeding 
me  like  a  baby.  This  glorious  air  is  doing  me 
more  good  than  all  their  horrid  mixtures.  And 
there  I  get  the  better  of  them,  for  that  —  thank 
fortune  —  can't  be  measured  out  by  the  spoon- 
ful! 

I  feel  like  a  fighting  cock,  but  have  to 
suppress  my  energy,  for  this  little  miserable 
six  by  eight  balcony  admits  of  no  war  dancing. 
For  general  position,  however,  it  could  n't 
be  improved  upon,  I  admit.  The  clouds,  the 
shadows,  the  sunshine  —  especially  the  sun- 
shine !  —  are  all  mine. 

Will  you  go  on  telling  me  your  troubles 
32 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

and  not  mind  my  roughness  — or  rather  be- 
gin to  tell  me  about  the  one  great  trouble  ? 
Trust  me. 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


VI 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


MONDAY  AFTERNOON. 
AM  afraid  of  you,  O  practical 
dreamer !  Would  you  draw  my 
story  from  me  only  to  tear  it  to 
shreds  —  to  weigh  in  the  balance 
all  that  I  hold  most  sacred,  in  order  to  learn 
whether  this  or  that  paltry  trouble  need  have 
disturbed  the  even  tenor  of  life  ? 

Do  you  realize  for  what  you  are  asking  ? 
Do  you  understand  that  if  I  tell  my  story  at 
all,  I  must  tell  just  what  I  feel,  and  that  my 
heart  is  breaking  with  the  pain  of  it  ? 

C.  N. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 


VII 


DAVID   TO    CONSTANCE 


MONDAY  EVENING. 
OU  forget.    There  is  to  be  no  fear 
and  no    distrust.    We  both  have 
suffered,  and  we  both  understand. 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


VIII 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


MONDAY  EVENING  (LATE  !) 
have  a  wonderfully  simple  way 
of  putting  things  which  makes  me 
quite  ashamed.  Yes,  I  will  tell 
you,  but  not  to-night.  To-mor- 
row, on  the  mountain,  under  the  great  pines, 
it  will  be  easier. 

The  woods  were  beautiful  and  sympathetic 
this  morning,  and  to-day  everything  seemed 
wide  awake.  As  I  struck  into  the  wood-path 
a  little  rabbit  bobbed  up  just  in  front  of  me, 
sat  up  on  his  hind  legs  a  second,  then  catch- 
ing sight  of  Sandy  and  me,  scudded  at  top 
speed  into  his  hole.  We  had  no  murderous 
intentions  in  our  hearts,  but  that  the  poor 
36 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

little  beastie  could  n't  know.    I  suppose  they 
must  distrust  us  all  on  principle. 

Sandy  goes  with  me  on  all  my  rambles, 
and  he  is  the  best  of  companions,  dear  old 
thing.  George  Eliot  was  wise  in  saying  that 
dogs  are  the  best  of  friends  because  they  ask 
no  questions  and  make  no  criticisms. 

I  am  so  glad  you  are  feeling  better.  I 
have  not  asked  because  Nurse  gives  me  a 
cheerful  account  every  day.  Dear  soul ! 
Her  wholesome  presence  must  be  a  tonic  in 
itself.  I  was  jealous  of  you  all  those  years 
ago  when  she  used  to  tell  me  about  that  good 
boy  she  had  taken  care  of,  and  I  am  jealous 
now,  for  she  is  still  just  as  partial. 

That  poor  old  black  gown  !  Surely  a  prac- 
tical dreamer  should  know  that  one  can't 
wear  white  indefinitely.  This  is  wash-day. 

C.  N. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 


IX 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


ON  PINE  MOUNTAIN, 

TUESDAY  MORNING. 
)HE  pine  trees  are  singing  to  me 
just  as  they  used  to  do  long  ago. 
Somehow    they  encourage  confi- 
dence, and  I  seem  to  be  talking 
to  you  through  their  branches. 

One  spends  years  in  living  a  life,  but  in 
how  pitifully  short  a  time  the  whole  story 
can  be  told. 

As  you  agree  with  me  about  the  influence 
of  early  surroundings,  I  must  give  you  a  lit- 
tle idea  of  mine,  so  that  you  may  judge  for 
yourself  their  effect.  Picture,  then,  in  your 
own  mind  a  sensitive  child  needing  sympathy 
38 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

and  genuine  affection,  brought  up  in  an  un- 
imaginative New  England  household.  In- 
stead of  the  warmth  and  light  which  should 
always  surround  a  child,  there  was  a  chilling 
atmosphere  of  disapproval.  That  "  inherit- 
ance of  Puritanic  gloom  "  of  which  Haw- 
thorne speaks,  supplanted  all  joyous  God- 
given  feelings  in  my  aunt  and  uncle,  and  I 
fear  descended  from  generations  upon  me 
as  a  natural  right.  If  "  happiness  is  our 
birthright "  some  of  us  surely  are  cheated  ! 

This  pious  couple  were  not  above  painful 
disputes.  Why  can't  older  people  realize  the 
effect  of  stormy  scenes  upon  an  impression- 
able child  ?  I  used  to  cudgel  my  poor,  small 
brain,  trying  to  recall  my  father  and  mother 
who  were  very  happy  together,  I  was  told. 
They  had  left  me  a  goodly  fortune,  but  not 
one  little  remembrance  of  themselves.  One 
of  my  most  vivid  recollections  is  of  shrink- 
ing from  the  embrace  of  a  well-meaning  rela- 
tive, then  sobbing  myself  to  sleep  because  I 
had  nobody  to  kiss.  So  my  happiness  lay  in 
39 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

the  outdoor  world,  where  I  flourished  with 
the  trees  and  flowers  and  spent  my  love  on 
my  animals.  They  returned  it  in  their  gen- 
erous way,  and  always  have  seemed  to  me 
more  worthy  than  most  human  beings.  The 
tragedy  is  that  their  lives  are  so  short,  and 
one  must  suffer  repeated  losses  and  heart- 
aches. 

The  period  watched  over  by  dear  Nurse — 
that  rosy-cheeked  English  girl,  as  you  too 
remember  her — is  a  bright  spot  to  look  back 
upon. 

From  that  stage  to  life  in  the  city  where 
school,  dances,  entrance  into  society  followed 
each  other  in  quick  succession,  was  a  com- 
plete transition.  Living  in  the  big  town 
house,  my  time  was  filled  by  teas,  dinners, 
and  balls  which  I  enjoyed  in  a 'feverish  way 
when  not  too  impressed  with  the  hollowness 
of  it  all.  One  can  talk  and  laugh  through 
dinners  and  dances,  but  it  does  n't  often  sat- 
isfy. I  could  show  my  real  feelings  under 
those  glaring  lights  no  better  than  I  could 
40 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

show  my  unreal  ones  under  these  pine  trees. 
And  so  they  called  me  "  the  cold  Miss  North," 
and  you  would  have  done  the  same  had  you 
known  me  in  the  same  way. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  great  reality.  I 
hardly  know  how  to  tell  you,  but  I  feel  your 
sympathy,  so  I  keep  on. 

That  little  boy  with  the  yellow  hair  was 
the  child  of  a  starving  young  musician  whom 
I  had  been  able  to  help  —  though  too  late. 
After  a  few  happy  months,  when  I  went  to 
their  rooms  and  we  spent  long  evenings  fill- 
ing ourselves  with  music,  the  violinist  and 
his  young  wife  both  died.  The  baby,  who 
weathered  the  hardships  which  killed  his  par- 
ents, they  left  to  me. 

The  memory  of  those  evenings  we  four 
spent  together  I  shall  never  lose.  The  love 
of  that  little  family  for  each  other  was  some- 
thing of  which  I  always  had  dreamed,  but 
had  never  known.  Often  on  my  way  to  a 
dance  I  would  go  there  and  play  their  accom- 
paniments while  the  father  played  his  violin 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

and  the  mother  sang,  and  the  baby  rolled  on 
the  floor  and  loved  it  all.  So  I  resolved,  when 
I  took  Guy  home,  that  I  would  do  all  in  my 
power  to  keep  the  sunlight  which  was  his 
inheritance  always  about  him.  The  society 
world  might  if  they  chose  —  and  they  did 
choose  —  think  me  an  unmitigated  crank. 
When  a  girl  of  nineteen  blights  a  social  career 
by  devoting  all  her  time  and  energies  to  a 
North  End  baby,  she  oversteps  the  bounds  of 
conventional  peculiarity.  But  I  just  hugged 
the  baby  closer  and  laughed  at  the  rest  of 
the  world.  Here  was  something  that  needed 
me !  When  Guy  cuddled  in  my  arms  and  I 
looked  into  his  blue  eyes,  a  wave  of  feeling 
rose  up  in  me,  and  that  hollow  aching  space 
was  filled. 

You  could  n't  look  at  that  child  and  think 
an  unworthy  thought,  or  say  an  unkind  thing. 
Love  fairly  radiated  from  him,  and  every  one 
fell  under  the  magic  spell.  I  could  n't  bear 
to  be  away  from  him,  so  I  went  out  very  lit- 
tle. But  the  few  dinners  and  dances  I  did  go 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

to,  I  enjoyed,  for  I  was  happy.  Life  had  be- 
gun to  mean  something  to  me.  Guy  was  two 
years  old  that  first  winter,  toddling  about  and 
beginning  to  talk.  When  I  was  going  out  to 
dinner  I  would  dress  early  so  that  I  might 
have  a  good  long  play  with  him  in  the  nur- 
sery. He  loved  pretty  things,  and  when  I 
came  to  him  in  my  evening  gown  and  jewels, 
he  would  shout  and  call  me  "Lully  Tonny !" 
—  Do  you  know  baby  talk,  I  wonder  ?  He 
loved  to  play  with  my  rings  and  necklace 
and  run  his  soft  little  fingers  over  my  hands 
and  throat.  I  remember  one  night  when  I 
wore  diamonds  in  my  hair  he  lay  blinking  at 
me,  completely  fascinated,  without  saying  a 
word.  The  pressure  of  his  arms  round  my 
neck,  and  his  voice  saying,  "  'Night,  Tonny 
dear,"  would  stay  with  me  through  the  din- 
ner, and  make  me  happy. 

People  used  to  call  me  unselfish  and  won- 
der how  I  could  give  up  so  much  for  the 
child.  They  did  n't  know  that  it  was  n't 
"giving  up." 

43 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

So  it  went  on  for  six  years.  If  you  have 
never  watched  a  child  grow  and  develop  you 
don't  know  what  it  means.  I  didn't  till 
I  had  Guy.  I  never  liked  or  understood 
children  before.  But  I  followed  every  step 
with  him,  and  in  his  pleasures  made  up  for 
the  childhood  I  had  never  known.  He  was 
happy  at  kindergarten  and  school,  for  he 
was  receptive  to  everything  good.  He  loved 
animals,  and  he  was  simply  filled  with  music. 
He  began  to  sing  as  soon  as  he  could  talk, 
and  before  long  we  sang  duets,  he  standing 
beside  me  at  the  piano  in  his  little  white 
dress.  I  had  to  avoid  songs  like  "The 
drowning  of  poor  pussy-cat,"  and  a  minor 
strain  would  bring  the  tears  rushing  into  his 
eyes.  That  was  the  only  way  in  which  his 
inherited  delicacy  of  temperament  showed 
itself.  There  was  nothing  abnormal  about 
him.  He  loved  play  as  much  as  any  child  I 
ever  saw,  and  was  full  of  fun  and  gayety. 

When  he  was  five  I  began  his  violin  les- 
sons. He  showed  great  talent,  and  of  course 

44 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

I  made  all  sorts  of  plans  for  him.  I  had 
ceased  completely  to  dream  about  myself 
and  to  wonder  what  was  likely  to  become 
of  me.  For  surely,  "  It  is  when  one  expects 
nothing  more  for  one's  self  that  one  is  able 
to  love." 

You  see,  don't  you?  — that  I  would 
have  done  anything  to  bring  happiness  to 
Guy,  given  up  all  to  spare  him  pain.  But 
somehow  that  which  we  are  ready  to  give  is 
seldom  demanded  of  us.  It  was  the  child 
himself  I  must  give  up,  and  when  suffering 
came  to  him  I  was  powerless. 

In  all  my  loneliness  and  grief  I  feel  that  I 
could  bear  the  loss,  if  that  were  all.  If  Guy 
could  have  slipped  happily  away  there  would 
always  have  been  a  memory  of  joy  and  peace 
to  comfort  me.  But  instead,  there  is  that  hor- 
rible impression  of  the  end  which  has  burnt 
itself  into  me.  That  is  what  I  mean  by  say- 
ing, though  I  force  it  from  me  by  day,  I  dream 
of  it  at  night.  No  one  but  the  doctor  and 
nurse  realize  what  happened,  but  now  I  will 
45 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

tell  you.  People  wrote  their  sympathetic 
notes,  saying  that  I  would  find  comfort  in 
the  thought  of  Guy's  joyous  life,  that  it  was 
beautiful  to  think  I  had  none  but  happy 
memories  to  recall.  This  applied  to  what 
they  knew,  but  it  did  not  touch  the  trouble 
lying  nearest  my  heart. 

Guy  was  taken  ill  suddenly,  and  lived  only 
three  days.  It  did  n't  occur  to  me  that  he 
could  die.  There  never  was  a  creature  who 
seemed  more  alive  in  every  fibre.  The  doc- 
tor said  that  an  operation  might  save  him, 
and  I  had  to  take  the  responsibility  of  that 
life  and  say  it  should  be  tried.  It  was  unsuc- 
cessful. The  doctor  said  the  end  must  come 
in  a  few  hours.  Then  my  only  feeling  was  to 
be  with  Guy  so  that  he  should  have  no  fear. 
The  doctor  looked  troubled  and  advised  me 
to  go  out  of  the  room. 

"  Surely  you  will  not  let  him  suffer  !  "  I 
cried  out. 

'*  No,"  he  answered.  "  There  is  no  danger 
of  that,  but  we  are  obliged  to  use  powerful 
46 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

drugs  which  may  have  a  strange  effect.  I 
should  advise  you  not  to  stay." 

His  words  sounded  meaningless  at  the 
time.  Guy  knew  me.  Guy  needed  me.  I 
sat  beside  him,  holding  his  little  hot  hand 
and  smoothing  his  forehead.  He  was  con- 
tented for  I  was  with  him,  and  I  thought  he 
would  slip  away  with  his  hand  in  mine. 

How  can  I  write  what  happened  —  it  is  all 
so  horrible  !  "  Only  a  convulsion,"  the  doc- 
tor said.  "  Remember  he  is  unconscious  and 
feels  no  pain." 

How  could  I  believe  that,  when  he  strug- 
gled in  my  arms  so  that  I  could  not  hold 
him,  and  must  give  him  up  to  the  doctor  and 
nurse,  when  I  saw  his  face  distorted  and  heard 
him  moan  and  cry  out  as  though  imploring 
me  to  help  him !  Can  there  be  anything 
harder  to  bear,  I  wonder,  than  helplessly  to 
watch  the  sufferings  of  those  one  loves ! 

Finally  I  went  into  my  own  room  and 
paced  up  and  down.  His  cries  grew  gradually 
fainter.  There  was  a  gasping  sound,  then  at 
47 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

last  it  was  over.  When  I  came  back  they 
had  drawn  something  over  his  face. 

The  doctor  wished  that  I  might  have  been 
spared  such  a  painful  experience,  but  I  must 
remember,  he  said,  that  the  child  was  wholly 
unconscious  through  it  all.  He  went  away 
thinking  me  convinced.  But  do  you  wonder 
that  what  I  saw  is  more  real  to  me  than  any- 
thing he  could  say  ?  Strive  as  I  will  to  be- 
lieve him,  it  seems  to  me  he  was  only  trying 
to  comfort  me.  Though  I  have  times  of 
implicitly  accepting  his  words,  the  dreadful 
scene  will  keep  coming  into  my  mind,  and 
then  the  old  doubt  comes  over  me  again. 

"  You  should  not  have  stayed,"  the  practi- 
cal nurse  said. 

I  cannot  feel  that,  for  at  least  I  did  all  that 
I  could,  and  I  hope  that  my  face  bending  over 
him  was  Guy's  last  sight  on  earth. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  beauty  of  that  June 
day.  You  know  those  lavish  days  when  Na- 
ture has  more  bounty  than  she  knows  how  to 
use.  There  was  an  overflow  of  joyous  life. 
48 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  birds  had  never  sung 
with  such  abandon.  The  sunlight  streaming 
in  at  the  window  made  mocking  darts  at  my 
pink  dress.  I  had  put  it  on  because  Guy 
liked  it.  The  whole  outer  world  was  expres- 
sive of  him.  I  seemed  to  hear  him  calling 
me  from  the  garden,  but  when  I  went  out 
there  I  was  met  only  by  a  greater  loneliness. 
Even  the  room  with  its  suffocating  odor  of 
drugs  was  more  bearable  to  me  than  that 
riotous  joy  in  which  I  could  not  share. 

That  is  what  I  mean  by  saying  we  can  de- 
rive no  direct  comfort  from  Nature.  When 
it  is  the  touch  of  the  hand,  the  sound  of  the 
voice  our  hearts  cry  out  for,  nothing  else  will 
satisfy. 

So  this  is  my  story.  Your  silence  has  been 
so  sympathetic  that  I  almost  forgot  you 
were  n't  one  of  the  dear  old  dumb  things  I 
used  to  pour  out  my  woes  to. 

It  is  nearly  a  day  that  Sandy  and  I  have 
been  here.  The  shadows  of  the  pines  are 

49 


growing  long,  and  Nurse  will  be  wondering 
what  has  become  of  us.  We  must  leave  our 
mountain-top.  Perhaps  you  too  are  on  the 
lookout  from  your  sky  parlor.  You  will 
have  left  the  balcony  long  ago. 

So  I  go  down  to  you  — yet  we  seem  much 
nearer  here. 

C. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 


X 


DAVID   TO    CONSTANCE 


TUESDAY  EVENING. 
|F  you  could  have  seen  me,  dear 
friend,  when  I  read  your  letter, 
you  would  realize  my  sympathy. 
The  evening  has  slipped  by  while 
I  have  been  reading  and  pondering  it,  but  I 
can't  let  night  shut  down  without  sending 
you  a  few  words.  Poor  lonely  little  child 
with  a  soul  hunger.  Indeed,  it  made  me  sad 
to  think  about  her. 

You  are  tired  to-night,  I  know.  Your 
music  is  delicate  and  dreamy  instead  of  wild 
and  spirited  as  it  was  yesterday.  I  know  that 
it  must  have  cost  you  much  to  write  me  such 
a  letter.  When  feelings  rush  out  with  such 

51 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

force  it  shows  how  narrowly  they  have  been 
pent  up.  It  is  better  that  they  should  at  last 
be  free.  The  pine  trees  and  I  will  share  your 
burden  and  keep  secret. 

Shall  I  tell  you  that  with  all  the  sympathy, 
all  the  compassion  that  your  story  roused  in 
me,  my  chief  feeling  was  of  triumph !  Be 
thankful  that  you  have  known  such  love, 
that  you  are  capable  of  feeling  it,  for  it  means 
just  the  difference  between  real  life  and  hol- 
low existence. 

I  am  glad  that  I  am  a  doctor,  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  to  reassure  you  in  the  mat- 
ter that  has  given  you  such  distress.  It  is 
hard,  I  know,  to  give  more  credence  to  what 
we  are  told  than  to  what  we  see  with  our  own 
eyes.  But  you  must  accept  the  truth  from 
those  who  have  reason  to  know.  I  will,  if 
you  wish,  give  you  a  string  of  scientific  truths 
which  must  remove  all  doubt  from  your  mind. 
I  know  that  Guy  felt  no  pain,  and  I  am  glad 
that  you  were  brave  enough  to  be  with  him. 

I  wish  I  could  speak  with  such  assurance 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

of  cases  of  my  own.  To  alleviate  when  you 
can,  to  try  not  to  think  about  it  when  you 
can  do  nothing,  is  a  lesson  a  doctor  must 
early  learn.  But  if  he  is  sympathetic,  his 
heart  will  have  one  wrench  after  another, 
nevertheless.  So  knowing  what  this  burden 
is,  I  rejoice  that  you  need  not  bear  it. 

Here  comes  Nurse  to  tuck  me  up,  just  as 
she  used  to  do. '  I  wonder  if  she  will  hear  me 
say  my  prayers,  and  ask  me  if  I  have  been  a 
good  boy  to-day. 

Good-night. 

D.  L. 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 


XI 


CONSTANCE  TO   DAVID 


WEDNESDAY. 

JHAT  your  letter  was  a  comfort 
to  me  you  will  realize  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  slept  last  night  as  I 
have  not  done  for  months.  Conse- 
quently the  world  seems  brighter  to  me  this 
morning  in  spite  of  its  outwardly  forbidding 
aspect.  The  doctor  said,  "What  a  dreary 
day ! "  as  he  passed  by.  I  could  n't  agree 
with  him.  Yet  how  the  rain  does  pour  down ! 
You  can't  go  out  —  for  which  I  am  very 
sorry. 

My  little  sitting-room  is  cosy  this  morn- 
ing, with  its  dancing  fire  and  singing    tea- 
kettle.   Next  to  the  purring  of  a  cat,  do  you 
54 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

know  any  sound  more  comfortable  than  the 
singing  of  a  kettle  ? 

When  will  they  let  you  come  down  here 
and  visit  me,  I  wonder  ? 

Do  you  know  that,  having  laid  bare  my 
secret  before  you,  I  feel  more  like  indulging 
in  a  little  levity.  Having  once  established 
my  position,  I  am  willing  to  disregard  it.  All 
sorts  of  puzzling  things  come  to  my  mind 
to  ask  you,  but  I  can't  endanger  my  present 
peace  by  doing  so. 

I  have  just  given  your  doctor  a  serious 
lecture  for  letting  his  horse  stand  uncovered 
in  the  rain.  I  think  he  will  remember  another 
time. 

C.  N. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


XII 


DAVID   TO    CONSTANCE 


WEDNESDAY  EVENING. 
ON'T  you  play  the  Mendelssohn 
"  Spring  Song  "  again  ?  That  was 
such  a  tantalizing  snatch.  I  like 
things  out  of  season,  don't  you  ? 
Now,  "  Good-by  Summer  "  merely  intensi- 
fies one's  autumnal  feelings,  which  are  likely 
to  be  strong  enough  anyway.  But  a  touch 
of  spring  brings  a  happy  suggestion  of  hope 
and  promise,  and  wood  violets. 

D.  L. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 


XIII 


DAVID   TO   CONSTANCE 


WEDNESDAY  EVENING. 
HANK  you.    Do  you  know  that 
you  play  very  well  ? 

D. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 


XIV 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


THURSDAY. 

[HE  woods  are  wet  this  morning 
for  newly  starched  white  petti- 
coats, so  I  have  abandoned  them 
—  the  woods,  I  mean  — and  have 
struck  out  in  search  of  green  fields  and  pas- 
tures new.  Here  is  a  little  hollow  which  the 
sun  has  touched  —  drying  up  its  moisture, 
and  leaving  it  fresh  and  fair.  There  is,  how- 
ever, an  irrepressible  little  brook  which,  re- 
fusing to  be  subdued,  tumbles  by  me  in  its 
excess  of  haste  and  exuberance.  It  is  appar- 
ently afraid  to  pause  a  moment  lest  it  over- 
flow its  banks.  From  force  of  childish  habit 
I  fling  a  few  twigs  into  the  stream  and  watch 
58 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

thorn  until,  whisked  along  by  the  current, 
they  disappear.  I  am  left  to  wonder,  with 
the  ever  new  charm  of  contemplating  things 
vague,  where  the  boats  go. 

Dear  Sage,  I  am  constantly  tempted  into 
saying,  "  If  this  were  all !  "  If  one  might 
forever  listen  to  this  musical  brook,  one 
might  also  keep  in  tune.  But  oh,  the  harsh 
discords  to  which  we  may  not  close  our  ears  ! 
This  overflow  of  feeling  Nature  —  though  I 
have  reviled  her  —  does  understand.  But 
the  world  does  not.  It  demands  that  one  be 
ornamental  and  agreeable  in  society,  that  one 
make  charitable  calls,  and  sign  checks.  It  is  a 
practical,  mercenary  world,  as  my  morning's 
mail  testifies.  While  I  am  abusing  it,  let  me 
add  that  it  is  also  selfish,  liking  us  so  long 
as  we  amuse  it,  thrusting  us  aside  when  we 
become  poor  company. 

When  we  are  by  nature  inclined  toward 
melancholy,  why  doesn't  Fate  —  the  silly 
thing  —  enjoy  cosseting  us  up  a  bit?  In- 
stead, she  delights  in  stripping  away  the  few 
59 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

healthy  influences  we  have  welcomed,  and  in 
thrusting  us  back  upon  our  own  poor  re- 
sources. 

You  are  shocked,  doubtless,  that  on  this 
beautiful  morning  I  can  give  vent  to  such 
heathenish  sentiments.  It  must  be  the  very 
contrariness  which  appalls  me,  and  makes  all 
the  ugly  things  of  life  —  other  people's  trou- 
bles, I  'd  have  you  know,  as  well  as  my  own 
—  loom  large.  How  do  you  contrive  to  be 
triumphant,  I  wonder. 

But  I  bore  you,  and  you  probably  have 
reached  the  yawning  stage.  What  splendid 
openings,  though,  for  long  lectures  I  have 
given  you  —  so  take  heart ! 

Sandy  is  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the 
brook,  urging  me  to  further  exploration.  So, 
as  I  never  can  refuse  a  dog  —  good-by. 

I  wonder  if  that  tipsy  little  bridge  will  bear 
me. 

C.  N. 
P.  S.   It  did  n't! 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 


XV 


DAVID   TO   CONSTANCE 


FRIDAY. 

JND  so  I  may  give  you  a  lecture? 
— you  child  who  abuse  your  most 
faithful  ally.  If  this  Arcadian  life 
were  all,  I  would  n't  dare  contem- 
plate the  consequences.  Call  the  world  self- 
ish, mercenary,  what  you  will — its  influences 
have  the  blessed  power  to  turn  us  from  our- 
selves. And  is  there  a  more  magic  balm 
than,  that  which  soothes  our  own  wounds 
when  we  are  trying  to  heal  other  people's? 
I  don't  mean,  mind  you,  by  giving  "  absent 
treatment "  to  all  the  sufferers  in  Christen- 
dom. 

May  I  take  advantage  of  my  position  on 
61 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

the  lecture  platform  to  make  another  sugges- 
tion? If  Fate  is  that  vindictive  personage 
you  paint,  why  not  disarm  her  by  determin- 
ing the  extent  of  your  own  resources  ?  Then 

—  excuse  the  impertinence  to  one  so  august 

—  you  would  have  her  on  the  hip. 

I  have  been  tending  a  flickering  flame 
lately,  trying  —  with  Emerson  —  to  "build 
altars  to  the  Beautiful  Necessity."  Some- 
times my  fire  is  quenched  by  discouraging 
rain,  and  I  am  left  shivering.  Then  all  at 
once  a  spark  flies  out  in  an  unexpected  place, 
and  a  clear  flame  shoots  up.  I  believe  it  will 
burn  brightly  in  the  end.  Don't  you  ? 

Here  is  something  which  has  been  sing- 
ing its  way  into  my  heart.  It  may  be  a  trite 
phrase,  but  to  me  it  sounds  musical :  "  We 
must  accept  the  unalterable  laws  of  life." 

I  wonder  if  I  made  it  up,  or  whether  I  am 
thrusting  second-hand  information  upon  you. 
That  would  be  unfair. 

Does  this  all  sound  too  severe  and  pedan- 
tic to  a  dreamer  ?  D.  L. 
62 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

Thank  you  for  your  glimpse  of  green  fields 
and  running  brooks.  I  felt  that  I  was  playing 
there  with  you.  Nature  must  have  forgot- 
ten her  role  of  proud  beauty  to  step  down 
from  her  pedestal  —  or  was  it  possibly  you 
who  ?  — - 

Good-by. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


XVI 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


SATURDAY. 

JOUR  suggestions  though  deli- 
cately veiled  are  searching,  —  my 
gentle  critic,  —  and  it  is  unfortu- 
nate that  directly  one  criticises  I 
rebel.  I  have  always  felt  sure  that  I  could 
keep  quite  pleasant  if  no  one  ever  found  fault 
with  me.  A  humble  notion,  surely !  But  it 
is  so  healthy  to  expand  under  praise  that  we 
should  be  allowed  the  luxury.  Guy  and  I 
reveled  in  each  other's  approval. 

Yes,  I  suppose  I  must  go  back  into  the 
world,  and  take  up  some  practical  work.  But 
I  rather  pity  the  object  of  my  unwilling  de- 
votion. 

64 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

k 

Is  it  Goldsmith  who  says,  "  Scrub  the  floor 
with  your  broken  heart  "  ? 

That  is  undoubtedly  good  for  the  heart, 
but  I  scarcely  think  the  floor  will  be  greatly 
benefited. 

Do  you,  who  can  juggle  so  nicely  with 
Fate,  suppose  that  by  merely  filling  the 
hours  I  can  forget  ?  And  I  don't  wish  to 
forget.  Another  selfish  trait  which  I  will 
score  with  a  black  mark  to  spare  you  the 
trouble. 

Here  am  I  with  the  freedom  of  God's 
earth  at  my  disposal,  complaining,  while  you, 
poor  prisoner,  utter  not  a  word.  There  is 
something  positively  frightening  in  an  uncom- 
plaining man.  Does  it  grow  easier  when  one 
has  accepted  the  unalterable  laws,  I  wonder  ? 
The  idea  never  occurred  to  me,  and  you  are 
cheating  me  of  a  most  absorbing  line  of 
thought.  I  suppose  you  knew  that ! 

I  fancied  that  my  trees  had  missed  me 
when  I  went  back  to  them  to-day.  The 
pine  branches  swept  before  me  in  stately 

65 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

M 

curtsies,  and  the  wind  sang  its  tender  wel- 
come. 

When  can   you  come  with   me   into  the 
woods  ? 

C.  N. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 


XVII 


DAVID   TO   CONSTANCE 


SUNDAY. 

|F  course  you  don't  wish  to  forget. 
Memory,  dear  dreamer,  is  a  pre- 
cious possession  and  should  be 
guarded  as  such.  To  find  a  man 
or  a  woman  who  remembers  —  even  great 
joys  —  gives  one  fresh  confidence  in  life's 
reality. 

You  know  how  sadly  Amiel  says,  "Na- 
ture is  forgetful ;  the  world  is  almost  more 
so." 

I  think,  however,  that  he  does  our  fair 

friend  an  injustice.     Nature  is  wonderfully 

discriminating,  it  seems  to  me,  in  what  she 

casts  out  and  what  she  keeps.    Why  not  look 

6? 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

your  affairs  squarely  in  the  face  and  see  if 
you  mightn't  profit  by  her  example? 

They  are  promising  me  freedom  before 
long.  Shall  I  dare,  I  wonder,  abuse  you 
then  ?  I  have  to  make  the  most  of  present 
opportunities,  for  already  I  see  the  tilt  of 
your  nose  and  the  curve  of  your  lips,  my 
lady  disdain. 

I  have  a  glimpse  through  the  trees  of  the 
little  white  meeting-house  on  the  hilltop 
where  you  have  gone.  The  sound  of  the 
bells  comes  clearly  to  me  across  the  fields. 
Is  it  as  charming  when  you  reach  it,  or  is  it 
one  of  those  things  which  never  should  be 
approached  for  fear  of  marring  its  perfection  ? 
But  these  are  dangerous  views  to  circulate  in 
the  enemy's  camp ! 

I  wonder  if  there  is  a  small  boy  in  knicker- 
bockers, who  sits  with  legs  stretched  straight 
before  him  —  not  long  enough  even  to  dan- 
gle. Sometimes  he  nods  wearily,  and  then  a 
gentle  mother's  arm  curves  around  him,  and 
rest  comes.  Lucky  little  beggar  !  Some  day 
68 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

he  may  stand  outside  the  church,  and  long 
for  those  old  simple  days  before  he  tried  to 
set  up  a  philosophy  of  his  own. 

Then  he  will  hope  that  a  fair  saint  within 
may  breathe  a  prayer  for  him.  Do  you  think 
she  will  ? 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 


XVIII 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


MONDAY. 

HAVE  been  reminiscing  to-day. 
There  was  an  insignificant  little 
girl  at  school,  who  apparently 
cared  for  nothing  but  finery  and 
frivolity.  An  unusually  fine  man  fell  in  love 
with  her,  and  in  marrying  him  whatever  good 
lay  latent  in  her  was  developed.  For  when  I 
met  her  a  few  years  ago  she  was  wonderfully 
improved.  She  has  two  of  the  loveliest  chil- 
dren I  ever  saw.  Her  life  is  simply  flooded 
with  sunshine.  And,  like  many  women  of  her 
kind,  she  accepts  it  all  as  a  matter  of  course. 
There  is  a  different  type  of  woman  to  whom 
this  would  be  the  breath  of  life,  and  she  is 
70 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

usually  doomed  to  stand  outside  and  shiver. 
For  example,  —  a  baron  once  proposed  to 
me  after  a  week's  acquaintance,  intimating 
that  we  could  make  an  excellent  bargain,  as 
I  would  give  my  riches  in  exchange  for  his 
title.  He  added,  by  way  of  inducement,  that 
there  would  be  no  danger  of  unhappiness,  as 
neither  of  us  was  likely  to  waste  a  serious 
thought  upon  the  other. 

It  was  after  a  few  more  such  depressing 
experiences  that  Guy  took  me  into  his  heart, 
and  I  did  n't  care  what  became  of  every  mar- 
riageable man  in  Christendom.  And  then  — 
You  know  the  rest. 

Don't  ask  me  to  look  my  affairs  squarely 
in  the  face,  my  kind  critic.  They  scowl  back 
at  me  too  disagreeably. 

The  little  church  surprised  me  yesterday. 
I  also  had  thought  of  it  as  a  mere  pictur- 
esque spot  in  the  landscape,  and  a  very  peace- 
ful one.  I  went,  and  instead  of  the  expected 
rest  was  given  a  stirring-up  quite  outdoing 
any  I  have  received  at  your  hands.  I  had  pic- 
71 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

tured  Mr.  Dean  a  placid,  middle-aged  soul, 
with  no  ideas  in  particular.  Presto  !  a  beard- 
less youth,  wide  awake  to  all  the  questions 
of  modern  life.  You  should  have  heard  his 
voice  ring  when  he  urged  us  not  to  ignore 
our  blessed  privilege  in  the  world  as  servants 
of  man  and  children  of  God. 

"You  must  remember,"  he  said,  "that  the 
apparent  hardships  of  life  are,  in  reality,  glo- 
rious opportunities.  Circumstantial  pleasures, 
desirable  though  they  may  seem  at  the  mo- 
ment, are  merely  outward.  They  pass  and 
are  soon  forgotten.  It  is  when  this  form  of 
pleasure  is  denied  us,  when  we  are  thrown 
upon  our  own  resources,  that  our  characters 
develop,  and  inward  peace  is  found." 

Here  is  this  man  with  an  invalid  wife,  two 
small  children,  and  only  a  tiny  salary,  —  who 
has  had  to  leave  his  work  in  the  slums  where, 
evidently,  his  power  lies, — pouring  out  his 
soul  Sunday  after  Sunday  to  deaf  ears.  And 
yet  he  is  happy. 

I  know  what  you  are  thinking  —  that  this 
72 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

is  but  another  instance  of  the  revelation  of 
joy  through  sorrow.  Is  mine  the  only  nature 
too  small  to  comprehend  it,  I  wonder  ? 

I  'm  too  bruised  and  battered  to  think.  I 
feel  like  pushing  your  invincible  theories 
aside,  and  saying,  "  Don't  bother  me  —  only 
let  me  grieve  in  peace !  " 

C.  N. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 


XIX 


DAVID   TO    CONSTANCE 


jjOU  have  set  me  dreaming  to-night. 
I  also  have  a  reminiscence. 

When  I  was  in  college,  and  glad 
to  earn  a  penny  now  and  then,  I 
went  West  with  a  youth  whose  health  —  not 
because  of  overwork  —  demanded  that  he 
leave  the  Alma  Mater  for  a  while.  Inciden- 
tally he  was  upset  over  a  girl  who,  he  thought, 
had  treated  him  badly.  His  opinion,  how- 
ever, was  slightly  biased.  She  merely  didn't 
choose  to  marry  him,  and  I  thought  her 
judgment  was  excellent. 

We  were  penetrating  the  wilds  of  Wyo- 
ming by  slow  degrees,  and  at  each  stop  where 
we  inquired  for  some  backwoods  camp,  we 

74 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

were  met  with  the  ready  answer, "  Oh,  Jeff's 
the  man  you  're  lookin'  for !  " 

The  form  of  the  reply  might  vary,  but  the 
substance  never. 

At  each  apology  for  a  town  we  were  greeted 
with  new  accounts  of  Jeff,  and  as  we  drew 
nearer  his  domain  the  stories  became  more 
and  more  personal.  At  a  distance  we  had 
learned  that  he  had  the  most  successful  lum- 
ber camp  in  the  State,  that  he  was  the  best 
huntsman  and  guide  for  miles  around ;  but 
near  at  hand  —  within  fifty  miles,  that  is  to 
say,  of  his  camp  —  we  were  made  the  bearers 
of  all  sorts  of  messages,  and  even  of  small 
gifts  for  Jeff.  The  children  showed  us  neck- 
laces, boxes,  and  all  sorts  of  knickknacks  he 
had  carved  for  them  ingeniously  out  of  wood. 
The  most  frequent  message  was,  "  Tell  him 
to  come  over.  It 's  weeks  since  he 's  been 
here.  We  're  all  pinin'  to  see  him." 

As  we  and  our  guides,  with  jaded  horses, 
finished  our  march  before  a  rude  cabin  in  the 
wilderness,  we  were  greeted  by  our  host. 
75 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

Six  feet  three  of  manly  strength,  he  towered 
in  the  doorway ;  then  he  came  forward  to 
welcome  us  with  the  grace  of  a  woman  and 
the  smile  of  a  child.  This  was  indeed  Jeff — 
everybody's  friend  —  but  for  the  rest  I  was 
unprepared.  He  was  no  backwoodsman  — 
this  gentle  giant  —  but  a  gentleman  born  and 
bred. 

As  we  lounged  round  the  camp-fire  at 
night,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  Jeff  would  re- 
fresh us  with  the  tales  for  which  he  was  justly 
famous.  It  was  not  merely  his  experiences  in 
themselves,  but  the  spirit  he  put  into  them, 
which  made  them  interesting.  Whether  his 
story  dealt  with  the  great  cities,  or  the  greater 
wilderness,  and  he  seemed  equally  at  home 
in  either,  his  keen  insight  into  character  and 
his  thoroughly  human  understanding  always 
struck  the  keynote.  He  had  the  rare  faculty 
of  keeping  himself  out  of  his  stories.  It  was 
generally,  "  A  man  I  met  once,"  or,  "  A  dog 
I  knew." 

It  was  this  very  unconsciousness  of  self 
76 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

which  revealed  the  man's  character.  I  can 
hear  his  great  voice  now,  suddenly  softening 
to  tell  some  pathetic  incident  in  a  way  that 
would  bring  the  tears  to  one's  eyes.  Even 
the  Kid  would  for  the  moment  forget  his  own 
woes.  Then,  quick  as  a  flash,  that  humor  of 
his  would  come  to  the  rescue,  and  we  would 
all  be  laughing  together. 

I  think  the  best  tribute  to  his  personality 
is  that  he  could  give  a  rebuke  without  its 
being  resented. 

One  day  a  forlorn  little  yellow  dog  strag- 
gled into  camp.  One  of  the  new  men  started 
to  drive  it  out,  but  Jeff  stopped  him  with  a 
look  that,  I  think,  he  did  n't  soon  forget,  and 
whistled  to  the  dog. 

"  Why,  hullo,  Sporty  !  "  he  said,  when  the 
little  beast  came  wagging  up  to  him.  "  I  met 
you  down  the  river  road  the  other  day  — 
wondered  when  you  'd  be  calling  round." 

"  Oh,  beg  your  pardon !  "  the  man  said 
involuntarily.  "  Did  n't  know  he  was  a  friend 
of  yours." 

77 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

I  think  it  was  the  influence  of  JefFs  char- 
acter, as  much  as  the  natural  life  to  which  it 
was  so  closely  akin,  that  proved  such  a  bra- 
cing tonic  to  the  Kid.  After  two  months, 
there  was  no  excuse  for  our  staying  longer. 

Romantic  as  it  would  have  been  to  let  the 
story  of  JefFs  former  life  remain  in  shadowy 
obscurity,  curiosity  got  the  better  of  me.  On 
our  homeward  journey  I  made  repeated  in- 
quiries among  the  mutual  friends  who  were 
all  eager  to  talk  of  Jeff.  At  first  I  could  dis- 
cover nothing.  He  had  lived  with  them  and 
been  their  friend.  That  was  all  they  knew  or 
cared  to  know.  At  last  I  found  an  old  man 
who  —  through  no  act  of  JefFs  —  had  learned 
the  story,  and  accordingly  had  kept  silent. 

This  is  it:  Ten  years  before,  Jeff  had 
come  to  Wyoming  from  business  in  one  of 
the  big  Eastern  cities,  bringing  with  him  his 
little  boy  of  five.  The  doctors  had  given  the 
child  up,  finally  suggesting,  however,  that 
Western  air  possibly  could  save  or,  at  least, 
prolong  his  life.  The  character  of  the  mother 
78 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

was  plain  to  see  —  one  wonders  how  Jeff 
could  have  loved  her  —  in  that  she  chose  to 
remain  in  the  social  circle  which  comprised 
her  life.  Roughing  it  in  the  wilderness  would 
have  been  to  her  slow  suicide. 

The  boy  flourished  in  the  outdoor  world, 
and  grew  steadily  stronger.  Jeff  established 
himself,  and  prepared  to  stay  the  rest  of  his 
life  if  necessary. 

After  a  few  years  came  the  news  that  his 
wife  had  run  away  with  another  man,  without 
the  formality  of  procuring  a  divorce.  I,  who 
in  these  few  weeks  had  learned  to  know  this 
man  as  it  is  not  often  given  us  to  know  our 
fellow  creatures,  realized  what  this  blow  must 
have  been  to  him.  The  smirch  on  his  good 
name,  the  careless  handling  of  his  honor, 
must  have  been  hideous  to  a  man  of  his  sen- 
sitive and  upright  nature ;  but  that  was  not 
all.  I  knew  that  in  his  simplicity  he  still 
loved  the  woman  who  had  wronged  him,  and 
that  the  bitterest  pang  was  in  the  loss  of  her 
love.  This  grief  he  completely  concealed, 
79 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

and  kept,  his  bright  side  out.  Toward  the 
men  who  knew  nothing  of  his  history  this 
attitude  would  not  be  so  hard  to  maintain, 
but  with  the  boy  it  was  different.  In  his 
mind  Jeff  had  kept  fresh  the  memory  of  the 
mother,  and  so,  of  course,  he  kept  on  talk- 
ing and  asking  about  her.  My  old  friend 
said  he  had  constantly  heard  the  question, 
"  What  do  you  suppose  mother  is  doing  now  ? 
Does  she  still  miss  us  ?  "  And  then  urgent 
requests  for  "  Another  story  about  home." 

After  six  years  the  boy  died.  He  had  been 
gaining  steadily,  and  died  just  as  Jeff  had 
grown  to  feel  sure  that  he  would  live. 

"  Yes,  they  'd  had  great  times  together," 
my  friend  said  slowly.  "  The  little  feller  was 
gettin'  to  know  all  his  father  did  about  the 
birds  and  animals,  and  loved  the  woods  just 
as  he  did.  He  was  a  boy  any  father  might 
be  proud  of,  but  for  Jeff —  well,  you  know 
him,"  the  old  man  concluded  abruptly. 

With  primitive  directness  he  realized  that 
there  was  no  need  to  say  more. 
80 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

At  every  step  we  were  asked  about  Jeff, 
and  an  affectionate  message,  and  the  word 
that  he  was  coming  soon,  brightened  the  face 
of  every  questioner. 

As  we  rode  away,  I  looked  back  toward 
the  stately  forest  where  we  had  left  him  stand- 
ing firm  and  strong  like  the  trees  around 
him.  I  remember  that  the  Kid  and  I  smoked 
in  silence  long  after  we  had  left  the  last  camp 
behind  us. 

I  feel  that  there  is  no  wrong  in  telling  you 
this  story,  for  Harry  Jefferson  died  a  year 
ago,  felled  by  one  of  his  own  great  pines. 

The  woman  who  once  was  his  wife,  in  my 
opinion,  deserves  no  clemency. 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 


XX 


CONSTANCE   TO   DAVID 


TUESDAY. 

[OW  such  a  life  towers  up  among 
the  ruins  of  other  lives !  —  a  thing 
complete  and  perfect,  which  I  from 
my  dust  heap  may  gaze  up  at  and 
admire.  That  to  produce  quite  a  different 
effect  upon  me  was  your  motive  in  telling 
me  the  story,  I  fully  realize.  Rather  than  be 
thought  stupid,  I  confess  to  obstinacy.  I 
shall  always  persist  that  some  well-equipped 
people  are  intended  to  build  towers,  while 
others,  incapacitated  by  inheritance  or  sur- 
roundings, are  doomed  to  have  their  poor 
little  card-houses  come  tumbling  about  their 
ears.  I  rather  envy  those  placid  souls  who 
82 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

don't  fry  to  build  at  all.  To  be  an  uncon- 
scious failure  must  be  only  less  satisfying 
than  to  be  a  conscious  success. 

You  and  I  will  never  agree  as  to  the  lim- 
itation of  the  individual,  so  let 's  keep  on 
quarreling !  Not  to-night,  however.  The 
story  of  Harry  Jefferson  is  too  fresh  in  my 
mind. 

The  maple  trees  flaunted  crimson  banners 
in  my  face  as  I  went  through  the  wood-path 
this  morning.  I  send  you  a  sprig  as  earnest 
that  you  will  soon  pass  that  way. 

C.  N. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


XXI 


DAVID   TO    CONSTANCE 


TUESDAY  EVENING. 
ijOUR  non-builders,  whose  lot  you 

so   envy,   must    lead    the    placid 

existence   of  Emerson's    Bumble 

Bee,— 
"  Seeing  only  what  is  fair, 

Sipping  only  what  is  sweet." 

All  very  proper  for  a  bumble  bee,  of  course, 
but  personally  a  larger  experience  has  always 
seemed  more  interesting.  If  I  felt  a  sharp 
twinge  now  and  then,  I  should  call  it  a  spir- 
itual growing  pain,  and  be  glad  that  I  was 
stretching  out  a  bit. 

I  have  long  held  a  soothing  notion  that 
Fate  favors  the  frivolous,  —  include  here  your 
84 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

fortunate  school  friend  if  you  like, — and  that 
she  hesitates  to  burden  them  with  more  than 
they  can  bear.  "Contrariwise,"  as  Tweedle- 
dee  says,  she  must  be  paying  you  and  me  a 
subtle  compliment. 

But  I  am  on  the  borderland  of  philosophy, 
so  let  me  hasten  to  withdraw. 

Nurse  has  come  and  gone,  and  the  room 
seems  suddenly  filled  with  new  light  and  life. 
Imagine  caring  to  classify  her,  or  to  deter- 
mine the  reason  for  her  cheerfulness.  I  don't 
suppose  she  ever  paused  to  consider  the  pro- 
blem of  individual  destiny  —  benighted  wo- 
man ! 

Has  she  told  you  about  that  crippled  child 
of  hers  in  Boston,  whom  she  visits  every 
month  ? 

D.  L. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


XXII 


CONSTANCE  TO   DAVID 


WEDNESDAY  EVENING. 
AM  tired — heartily,  healthily  tired. 
It  is  such  a  different  feeling  from 
the  negative  weariness  which  has 
hung  about  me  for  so  long.  No- 
thing has  the  power  to  disturb  or  hurt  me 
to-night  —  not  even  your  letter,  which  was 
horrid.  So  I  ignore  it.  Perhaps,  however, 
you  considered  it  the  retort  courteous  to 
mine. 

You  remember  what  I  told  you  of  the 
minister's  family  ?  This  morning  Nurse  told 
me  they  were  in  great  trouble.  The  poor 
young  wife  was  very  ill,  and  the  little  maid 
of  all  work  had  departed.  I  won't  bore  you 
86 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

with  all  the  household  details,  for  you  can 
readily  see  that  the  situation  was  critical. 

So  I  pinned  on  a  hat,  and  ran  up  the  road. 
I  found  the  minister  employed  clearing  away 
the  breakfast  dishes.  Two  small  children  sat 
on  the  floor  playing  with  their  dolls  and 
blocks,  patiently  trying  to  make  the  best 
of  an  unfortunate  situation.  The  first  hasty 
glance  gave  me  the  impression  that  they  had 
been  scrambled  into  their  clothes  by  unac- 
customed hands.  It  is  odd  that  a  few  hours 
of  neglect  can  produce  an  effect  of  such  utter 
forlornity. 

We  had  a  busy  morning  !  Mr.  Dean,  very 
red  in  the  face,  tried  at  first  to  bow  me  out 
of  the  scene  of  confusion  and  into  his  study. 
He  tried  cheerfully  to  assure  me  that  there 
was  nothing  to  do,  as  he  could  perfectly  well 
put  the  house  in  order  and  take  care  of  the 
children  himself.  Judging  by  appearances,  I 
could  scarcely  agree  with  him.  He  told  me 
with  tears  in  his  eyes  that  it  was  owing  to 
Mrs.  Martin  that  his  wife  had  lived  through 

87 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

the  night.  I  could  hear  Nurse's  step  and 
cheery  voice  upstairs,  and  knowing  that  the 
really  critical  part  was  best  trusted  to  her,  I 
devoted  myself  to  the  simpler  tasks  below. 
For  I  had  suddenly  discovered  latent  execu- 
tive ability,  and  was  charmed  with  the  new 
sensation  of  putting  it  to  active  use. 

So  I  tied  a  big  checked  apron  round  the 
minister's  neck,  for  he  was  spotting  his  clothes 
dreadfully,  buttoned  myself  into  another,  and 
we  dispatched  the  dishes  in  short  order.  The 
children,  who  like  all  of  their  kind  are  easily 
cheered  if  you  can  only  divert  them,  bright- 
ened up  immediately. 

While  the  little  boy  was  playing  he  was  a 
steam-engine,  however,  and  pursuing  his  way 
round  and  round  the  table,  he  suddenly 
doubled  up  in  apparent  agony. 

"I  fink  somethin's  the  matter  wid  my 
clo'es,"  he  gasped.  "  They  stick  into  me  — 
here." 

Poor  little  monkey  !  Examination  revealed 
that  they  were  put  on  —  the  under  ones  — 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

wrong  side  out,  and  all  those  many  buttons 
were  pressing  inward. 

The  poor  minister  was  overcome  at  the 
discovery,  and  was  forced  to  admit  that  he 
was  not  a  success  as  nurse.  I  discharged  him 
from  that  position  and  sent  him  to  his  right- 
ful one  in  the  study.  Then  I  worked  a  trans- 
formation, surprising  to  myself,  in  the  chil- 
dren's appearance,  and  we  went  outdoors  to 
play.  We  had  such  a  beautiful  time,  and  it 
was  all  a  surprise  to  me.  I  never  supposed 
other  children  would  like  me.  But  they  en- 
joyed just  the  things  Guy  did.  We  picked 
flowers  and  watched  the  birds,  and  soon  we 
were  old  friends. 

Nurse  cooked  luncheon  for  us.  I  was  glad 
to  be  helped  in  that  very  practical  task,  and 
we  all  had  a  merry  meal  together,  for  she 
brought  word  that  Mrs.  Dean  was  comfort- 
able, and  that  the  minister  might  go  and  sit 
with  her  for  a  little  while. 

As  it  grew  dusk,  I  told  the  children  sto- 
ries, and  they  loved  them  just  as  Guy  did, 
89 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

even  liking  his  favorites  best.  One  about  an 
enchanted  princess  in  a  wood,  they  asked  for 
over  and  over.  Then  somehow  or  other  I 
began  telling  them  all  about  Guy  himself, 
and  you  should  have  seen  their  faces.  They 
wanted  to  hear  everything  I  could  tell  them, 
and  kept  asking  the  dearest  questions.  Little 
Lucy  was  "  so  sowwy  he  'd  gone  away  where 
she  could  n't  play  wid  him." 

I  did  n't  leave  them  till  they  were  tucked 
up  in  bed  for  the  night.  Then  they  put  their 
arms  round  me  and  would  n't  let  me  go  till 
I  promised  to  come  again  in  the  morning. 

"  Early  ?  "  Jackie  asked.  "  Shall  we  wake 
up  an'  find  you  here  ?  " 

I  came  flying  home  as  though  my  feet  had 
wings.  The  moon  was  up,  the  stars  were 
shining,  and  the  world  seemed  flooded  with 
golden  light. 

And,  oh,  I  'm  going  again  to-morrow ! 

C.  N. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 


XXIII 


DAVID  TO  CONSTANCE 


THURSDAY. 

[HEN  you  went  springing  by  before 
the  dew  was  off  the  grass,  I  knew 
that  you  had  some  definite  work 
to  do.  When  you  came  singing 
home  in  the  starlight,  I  knew  that  the  work 
was  done.  And  yet,  my  lady,  I  am  no  mind 
reader. 

So  my  poor  old  letters  are  henceforth  to  be 
ignored !  I  can  retaliate  and  write  you  no 
more,  which  reminds  me,  oddly  enough,  that 
to-morrow  I  am  to  be  allowed  a  short  walk, 
and  Saturday  to  be  given  my  freedom.  It  is 
merely  out  of  courtesy  to  the  doctor  that  I 
have  so  long  submitted  to  this  regime,  for 

91 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

I  Ve  felt  as  strong  as  an  ox  since  the  first 
few  days,  and  ^s  soon  as  they  let  me  out  I 
shall  prove  it. 

Then  will  you  let  me  explore  all  the  wood 
paths  with  you  ?  And  then  we  '11  climb  our 
mountain  peak. 

So  —  Auf  Wiedersehen. 

D.  L. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


XXIV 


CONSTANCE  TO  DAVID 


ON  PINE  MOUNTAIN,  • 
FRIDAY. 

jERE  I  am  once  more  among  the 
dear  restful  trees.   Since  Tuesday  I 
have    been   too    busy   to    come. 
Think  of  that — too  busy!  I  repeat 
the  words,  for  their  sound  pleases  me. 

Now  I  am  on  my  way  home  from  the  Par- 
sonage, —  by  rather  a  roundabout  route,  you 
may  think,  —  and  Sandy  and  I  are  picnicking 
under  our  favorite  pine.  He  is  taking  his 
after-dinner  nap  now,  though  in  a  most  apol- 
ogetic way.  You  should  see  him  with  one 
sleepy  eye  blinking  at  the  birds  that  are  flying 
so  trustingly  near  him,  and  one  ear  alert  to 
93 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

catch  the  first  sound  of  my  voice.  He  wishes 
me  to  understand  that  he  is  sleeping  merely 
for  lack  of  better  employment,  and  awaits 
my  slightest  command.  Dear  old  thing ! 
There  is  something  pathetic  to  me  in  the 
whole-souled  devotion  of  these  creatures 
whom  man  condescendingly  calls  "  the  lower 
animals." 

Somehow  I  don't  feel  that  drowsiness  which 
usually  follows  a  meal  in  the  open  air.  Of 
course  I  have  been  day-dreaming  —  but  you 
don't  disapprove  of  practical  dreams,  do 
you? 

Our  good  friend's  "journal"  lies  beside 
me  where  I  can  dip  into  it  at  will,  and  I  have 
just  happened  upon  a  passage  which  appeals 
to  me  —  "  Reverie  is  the  Sunday  of  thought." 
And  he  goes  on  to  speculate  upon  the  equal 
merits  of  work  and  consequent  repose. 

Don't  question  my  right  to  this  earned 
tranquillity,  will  you?  —  for  I  am  reveling  in 
the  new  sensation. 


94 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

We  have  established  a  trained  nurse  at  the 
Parsonage.  Dear  little  Mrs.  Dean  is  improv- 
ing, and  the  doctor  actually  says  that  if  she 
can  go  to  Boston  later,  and  have  special  treat- 
ment, she  may  get  well. 

My  head  is  simply  full  of  plans  —  definite, 
sensible  plans  which  must  succeed,  for  the 
minister  will  sacrifice  even  his  pride  where 
his  wife's  welfare  is  concerned.  It  will  be 
perfectly  possible,  I  know,  to  slide  her 
stretcher  onto  a  wagon,  and  then  into  the 
baggage  car,  and  I  keep  thinking  of  new  ways 
of  simplifying  the  journey. 

I  can't  quite  decide  whether  to  have  flowery 
paper  in  the  nursery  and  plain  furnishings,  or 
plain  pink  paper  and  coverings  of  flowered 
chintz.  Which  do  you  prefer?  That  is  the 
day  nursery,  of  course.  It  is  a  lovely,  bright 
room.  I  remember  just  how  the  sun  used 
to  shine  on  Guy's  hair  and  turn  it  to  gold. 
Jackie  shall  have  his  room,  with  his  little 
brass  bedstead,  and  I  shall  furnish  my  dress- 
ing-room with  a  white  set  for  Lucy. 

95 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

Then  the  best  part  of  all  is  that  the  min- 
ister will  have  to  come  to  Boston  to  be  with 
his  family,  and  then  he  can  take  up  his  be- 
loved slum  work  again.  It  seems  idiotic  of 
the  doctors  ever  to  have  sent  Mrs.  Dean  here. 
I  suppose  they  thought  it  would  be  a  pleasant 
place  to  die  in. 

It  is  less  than  two  weeks  since  I  first 
wrote  you  from  among  these  pines.  This  is 
just  such  a  day  of  blue  sky  and  clear  air  — 
and  yet  what  a  difference !  Think  of  sit- 
ting in  this  fairyland  and  talking  of  brass 
bedsteads  and  house  cleaning  !  You  should 
feel  encouraged,  my  patient  teacher.  Have  I 
lifted  up  the  latch,  I  wonder  ?  At  any  rate, 
Nature  is  standing  on  the  threshold,  smiling 
at  me. 

And  so  you  are  to  be  given  your  freedom  ! 
I  told  Sandy,  and  he  barked  for  joy.    I  whis- 
pered it  to  the  trees,  and  they  stretched  out 
their  arms  in  welcome. 
96 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

A  big  black  cloud  is  hovering  over  us !  We 
must  fly. 

Till  to-morrow,  then ! 

C.  N. 


Ill 

LIGHT  BETWEEN  THE  TREES" 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


«  LIGHT  BETWEEN  THE  TREES  " 


jATURE  weeps  at  night  and  smiles 
in  the  morning,"  Constance  said. 
"  Because  she  is  obeying  a  natural 
law  of  change,"  David  answered. 
They  stood  by  the  cottage  door,  sniffing, 
like  young  animals,  the  exhilarating  air  which 
swept  over  them.  Before  them,  field  and 
upland  stretched  away  to  the  encircling  hills. 
A  blue  haze  lingered  there,  and  the  clouds 
which  crowned  the  hills  were  soft  and  white. 
Nature,  indeed,  had  wrought  over  night  one 
of  her  marvelous  transformations.  The  storm 
had  passed  and  the  earth  lay  basking  in  the 
warm  October  sunshine.  It  was  a  mellow 
day,  when  the  sun  seemed  to  penetrate  the 
101 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

very  heart  of  Nature,  making  all  living  things 
glow  in  response. 

David  laughed  at  Nurse  Martin  and  Con- 
stance, who  insisted  upon  wrapping  him  up 
and  depositing  him  in  a  sunny  corner  of  the 
garden. 

"  But  after  all,"  he  told  Constance,  gayly, 
"if  I  am  sensible  I  will  submit  to  playing 
the  invalid,  since  that  is  the  evident  way  to 
gain  your  society." 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  watching  her  as  she 
sat  beside  him  with  her  sewing,  her  bright 
hair  touched  by  the  sun  and  tossed  by  the 
wind,  that  although  he  noted  the  sound  of 
her  voice,  her  words  passed  at  first,  un- 
heeded. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  laughed,  as  her  eyes  sought  his 
questioningly.  "  What  is  there  to  tell  ?  I 
believe  I  grew  up  in  such  a  commonplace 
way  that  I  was  scarcely  conscious  of  the  pro- 
cess. To  be  one  of  a  family  of  seven  is  n't 
conducive  to  personal  consideration.  I  had  n't 
even  the  distinction  of  being  the  eldest  or  the 
1 02 


THE    SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

youngest,  but  was  tucked  away  and  lost  sight 
of  in  the  middle." 

"  Nurse  has  been  telling  me  things,"  Con- 
stance said  wisely. 

"  What  dreadful  truths  has  she  revealed  ?  " 

"  Quite  the  opposite  of  dreadful." 

"  And  you  believed  her?  Why,  you  your- 
self pronounced  her  partial !  " 

"  She  told  me,"  Constance  pursued,  "  that 

after  you  had  worked  and  worked  through 

^college  and  the  medical  school,  you  at  last 

gained  a  splendid  practice,  you  were  a  rising 

young  doctor,  then  you  "  — 

"Yes,  then  I  flunked,"  Leighton  inter- 
rupted, "  and  that  was  the  end  of  all  my  fine 
hopes.  You  see  mine  was  a  different  variety 
of  disappointment  from  yours,  but  they  are 
all  alike  in  the  grasp  they  try  to  take.  We 
have  to  decide  pretty  quickly  whether  they 
shall  throw  us  or  we  them.  I  always  thought 
it  must  be  uncomfortable  to  be  the  under 
dog,  so  I  Ve  avoided  the  position." 

"You  speak  lightly,"  Constance  said, 
103 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

leaning  toward  him.  "You  would  have 
avoided  mentioning  it  entirely.  And  think 
how  I  have  babbled  on  like  a  running 
brook ! " 

"  The  brook  must  have  its  outlet,"  Da- 
vid answered.  "  I  profited  by  being  the  still 
lake." 

"You  have  a  faculty  of  taking  advantage 
of  your  opportunities  —  quite  refreshing  to 
me." 

"  A  mere  matter  of  necessity,  I  assure  you. 
As  you  have  n't  had  this  helpful  training, 
what  you  have  learned  reflects  more  credit  on 
yourself." 

"  You  have  taught  me  much." 

"  And  I  could  have  taught  you  nothing  if 
you  had  n't  been  —  as  you  are.  I  was  reading 
just  the  other  day, (  Man  kann  nur  demjeni- 
gen  geben,  der  einem  schon  etwas  Gleiches 
entgegenbringt.' ' 

"  Which  in  plain  English  means :  '  We 
can  give  our  ideas  to  people  only  when  they 
meet  them  with  something  similar.'  Yes,  I 
104 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

like  that.    What  a  good,  convincing  way  they 
have  of  putting  things." 

"  You  care  for  German,  then  ?  " 

"  I  love  it  dearly.  It  must  be  that  the 
something  in  me  which  distrusts  French  vi- 
vacity responds  to  German  sturdiness." 

"  What  a  serious  child  it  is  !  "  the  man  said 
quizzically.  "  Because  a  thing  is  gay,  need  it 
necessarily  be  false  ?  " 

"  Quite  the  contrary.  I  confess  to  a  weak- 
ness for  a  light  veneer  of  gayety  as  protection 
for  something  underneath.  But  so  often  one 
digs  down  and  finds  —  nothing." 

"  Perhaps  you  were  n't  digging  for  the  right 
thing.  One  is  n't  likely  to  find  gold  in  a  coal 
mine,  or  diamonds  in  gold  fields  —  but  that 
does  n't  disprove  the  excellent  qualities  of 
either." 

Constance  laughed  softly. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  dispute  you  this 
morning,"  she  said.  "  It  is  all  so  satisfying." 

She  turned  from  him  with  a  sweeping,  all- 
inclusive  gesture. 

105 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

The  man  looked  across  the  sunny  meadows 
to  the  veiled  hills,  then  back  at  the  girl's  face, 
and  there  his  eyes  rested. 

"  Completely  satisfying,"  he  answered. 

"  Is  n't  it  odd ! "  Constance  added  slowly, 
"  that  the  more  one  can  say  to  a  person  the 
easier  it  is  to  keep  silent.  A  hundred  ideas 
come  popping  into  my  head  that  you  and  I 
might  discuss,  but  with  them  the  comfortable 
feeling  that  it  is  n't  necessary." 

A  quick  look  of  sympathy  flashed  across 
the  man's  face. 

"  The  fact  that  we  are  both  so  contented 
here  is  a  stronger  bond  than  words  could 
make,"  he  said.  "  And  yet  I  like  to  hear  your 
voice,"  he  suggested  a  little  later. 

He  had  lain  quiet  for  several  moments,  with 
eyes  closed,  while  Constance  bent  over  her 
sewing. 

"  When  /  was  a  little  boy,"  he  resumed, 
for  no  answer  came,  "  they  used  to  tell  me 
not  to  use  my  eyes  in  the  sun." 

"  What  ingratitude  !  "  gasped  Constance. 
106 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

"  Indoors  it  is  shady.  I  take  the  hint  "  — 
and  gathering  up  her  work,  she  darted  from 
him  toward  the  house. 

In  her  flight,  her  work  basket  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  spools  and  thimble  rolled  under 
David's  chair.  Before  she  could  reach  them 
he  had  sprung  and  picked  them  up. 

"You  can't  play  any  such  trick  on  me,"  he 
laughed,  as  Constance  tried  to  regain  her  pro- 
perty. "You  thought  it  an  excellent  pretext 
to  run  away  and  leave  me,  did  you  ? " 

Constance  admitted  the  deceit. 

"  I  call  that  a  cruel  way  to  treat  an  inva- 
lid." 

"  Nurse  and  I  are  going  to  change  places 
at  twelve.  She  comes  back  here  to  get  your 
dinner,  and  I  go  to  the  Deans.  Come  —  if 
you  '11  give  back  my  thimble  I  '11  finish  my 
sewing  here  and  then  fly." 

David  was  balancing  the  thimble  on  his 
little  finger,  and  studying  the  contents  of  the 
work-box. 

"  There  is  something  very  attractive  about 
107 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

little  things  like  these,"  he  said  musingly.  "  I 
suppose  it 's  because  they  are  so  essentially 
feminine.  Do  you  know,  if  I  were  to  come 
into  a  strange  house,  and  find  a  sewing-basket 
open  on  the  table,  I  should  immediately  feel 
at  home." 

"  Sewing  does  seem  a  natural  attribute  of 
woman,  and  yet  unfortunately  it  is  an  acquired 
habit  with  me,"  Constance  sighed.  "  And  I 
have  always  wondered  how  far  it  is  wise  to 
cultivate  uncongenial  tastes." 

"  Do  you  think  your  powers  lie  in  some 
other  direction  ? " 

"  I  hope  so.  It  seems  as  though  I  must 
have  some  gift  for  the  artistic,  when  I  am  so 
utterly  stupid  in  the  practical." 

"  What  a  woman's  argument !  "  laughed 
the  man.  "  But  if  the  comment  is  not  wholly 
irrelevant,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  sew  very 
well." 

"  This  is  simple  work.  Just  an  apron  for 
Lucy,  to  save  her  few  frocks." 

"  It  looks  wonderfully  intricate  to  me." 
108 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

"  I  should  have  heartily  agreed  with  you  a 
little  while  ago.  Now  I  can  afford  to  make 
light  of  it,  for  it  is  done  —  actually  done." 

Constance  waved  the  small  checked  apron 
triumphantly  in  the  air. 

"  You  are  going  to  leave  me  ?  "  the  man 
asked.  "Where  is  your  soft-heartedness  ?  " 

With  hands  thrust  deep  in  his  pockets,  he 
was  strolling  back  and  forth  in  the  sunny 
corner  of  the  garden. 

"If  you  're  going  away,  I  'm  going  with 
you." 

"No,  not  to-day.  I  Ve  pampered  you 
enough  for  one  morning.  Women  have  an 
illogical  way  of  spoiling  men,  then  blaming 
them  for  making  selfish  husbands.  You  see 
when  I  am  firm  with  you  I  'm  consider- 
ing the  future  happiness  of  some  fair  un- 
known." 

Constance  flushed  with  remorse  the  mo- 
ment the  words  were  spoken.  But  he  had 
looked  deceptively  strong  and  independent  as 
he  stood  before  her. 

109 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

"  I  'm  not  likely  to  become  any  one's  hus- 
band," Leighton  answered  with  his  usual 
directness,  "so  I  don't  need  such  careful  train- 
ing. However,  if  you  insist,  let  me  escort 
you  to  the  gate." 

"  I  feel  so  important !  "  Constance  laughed, 
"  being  actually  needed  in  two  places  at  once." 

"  I  'm  getting  jealous  of  those  Deans," 
David  grumbled. 

Constance  was  looking  down  the  road. 

"  I  see  Nurse  coming,"  she  said,  "  so  I  'm 
not  so  necessary  after  all." 

The  man,  however,  apparently  held  a  dif- 
ferent opinion. 

"When  are  you  coming  home  ?  "  he  asked, 
leaning  over  the  gate.  "  You  must  n't  take 
that  lonely  road  after  dark,  even  with  Sandy." 

"  How  silly  !  I  submit,  however,  as  I  was 
intending  to  come  at  supper-time." 

"  I  shall  be  on  the  lookout  from  my  sky 
parlor." 

When  Nurse  Martin  came  into  the  garden, 
some  moments  later,  she  found  her  patient  at 
no 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

the  gate,  watching  a  white  speck  vanishing  in 
the  distance. 

"  I  was  hoping  she  might  look  back  at  the 
bend  of  the  road,"  he  explained. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


II 


IHEY  had  climbed  the  winding 
path,  and  were  resting  among  the 
great  trees  on  top  of  Pine  Moun- 
tain. 

"  Have  we  been  here  before  together,  or 
have  we  all  our  lives  dreamed  of  coming  ? " 
Constance  said  slowly. 

"It  does  seem  part  of  a  half-forgotten 
dream,"  David  answered.  "  I  suppose  it 's 
the  piny  smell.  But  let 's  make  no  explana- 
tions. Let's  be  part  of  this  fairyland,  and 
fall  under  its  enchantment." 

He  looked  up  into  the  trees  where  the 
gray  squirrels  were  springing  lightly  from 
branch  to  branch. 

"  Perhaps   we   played    together   like    that 
thousands  of  years  ago,"  he  said  lazily. 
Constance  was  sitting  at  the  foot  of  a  great 
112 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

pine.  She  had  tossed  aside  her  wide-brimmed 
hat  to  rest  her  head  comfortably  against  the 
broad  trunk,  and  the  sunlight  fell  in  bright 
patches  on  her  hair. 

"It's  all  changed  to  gold  again, "David  said. 

He  flung  himself  on  the  ground  among 
the  dry  leaves  and  pine  needles,  and  stared 
upward  through  the  waving  treetops. 

"  What  Skimpoles  we  all  are  !  "  he  laughed, 
"  with  our  ( positive  talent  for  lying  on  our 
backs  and  gazing  up  at  the  sky.' 

"And  this  is  where  you  and  Sandy  pic- 
nicked ?  "  he  asked  presently. 

The  dog,  who  was  still  Constance's  de- 
voted follower,  raised  his  head  and  wagged 
his  tail  gently  at  the  sound  of  his  name. 

"Yes,  I  seem  to  know  it  all,"  David  re- 
sumed. "Just  as  though  I  really  had  been 
here  with  you.  There  is  the  fallen  pine  whose 
lot  you  so  envied." 

"  What  a  stupid  wish  that  was ! "  Constance 
cried.  "  Life  may  be  sad,  but  oh,  it  is  beau- 
tiful !  " 

"3 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

David,  with  chin  propped  on  his  hand,  was 
watching  every  changing  expression  of  the 
girl's  brilliant,  sensitive  face. 

"  Beautiful,"  he  echoed. 

She  turned  from  him  to  gaze  dreamily  into 
the  depths  of  the  cool  green  trees. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Of  the  enchanted  princess  who  lived  in 
the  wood." 

"  And  was  this  the  wood  ?  " 

"I  think  so.  At  least  it  was  yesterday, 
when  I  told  the  children  the  story." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  were  to  'finish  it  to-mor- 
row/ I  remember." 

"No,  not  to  finish  it — just  to  tell  some 
more.  That  is  the  charm  of  making  up  sto- 
ries for  children.  They  never  really  finish, 
even  with  that  conclusive  but  delightfully  in- 
definite, 'And  so  they  lived  happily  together 
forever  after.'  Next  day  comes  the  old  re- 
quest, 'Tell  some  more  about  the  enchanted 
princess.'  And  it  makes  no  difference  that 
114 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

the  prince  h£s  found  her  and  waked  her  with 
a  kiss.  One  must  go  back  again  and  make 
up  new  adventures.  And  all  sorts  of  delight- 
ful possibilities  filled  my  head  as  I  looked 
into  the  woods  just  now." 

David  nodded  sympathetically. 

"It  is  Guy's  story,  you  know,  invented 
for  him,  and  I  thought  it  died  with  him. 
Is  n't  it  wonderful  to  find  that  faculties  are 
not  lost,  only  slumbering — waiting  to  be 
stirred ! " 

"Tell  some  more  about  the  enchanted 
princess,"  David  urged.  "  Once  upon  a 

time"  — 

• 

Constance  leaned  back  against  the  tree- 
trunk  and  half  closed  her  eyes. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  then,  a  beautiful 
maiden  slept  on  a  mossy  bank  in  the  midst 
of  a  dense  forest.  And  her  reflection  was 
mirrored  in  a  crystal  lake.  She  was  folded 
in  a  royal  robe,  and  on  her  shining  hair  was 
a  jeweled  crown.  A  pile  of  gold  glittered  at 
her  feet.  But  he  could  not  win  her,  who 

"5 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

sought  only  her  riches.  Her  good  fairy  had 
beset  the  way  thither  with  such  difficulties 
that  it  could  be  found  only  by  one  virtuous, 
unselfish,  and  brave." 

"  And  did  such  a  one  appear  ?  " 

"After  long  ages.  Each  midsummer's 
day  the  princess  would  wake  and  ask  the 
fairy,  '  Has  my  rightful  lord  come  to  claim 
me  ? '  And  the  fairy  would  make  answer, 
'  Not  yet,  but  there  is  a  way  for  him  who 
will  follow  it.  Some  have  lost  it  through  cow- 
ardice, some  through  cruelty,  many  through 
lack  of  perseverance.  Fair  lady,  do  you  de- 
sire to  wed  with  such  as  these  ? ' 

"'No,'  answered  the  princess,  f  I  will  await 
the  coming  of  my  true  knight.' 

"And  again  she  would  fall  into  deep  slum- 
ber. 

f"At  last,  after  long  hardship  and  sacrifice, 
one  who  had  set  forth  in  the  courage  of 
youth  stood  on  the  border  of  the  crystal 
lake.  But  just  as  he  would  have  leapt  into 
the  water  to  swim  to  the  mossy  bank  and 
116 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

claim  the  princess,  he  caught  sight  of  his  own 
reflection  —  that  of  an  old  man,  gray,  bent, 
and  wrinkled. 

"'Alas!'  he  cried.  '  Whosoever  wakes  the 
princess  she  must  marry,  and  it  were  sin  for 
her  to  wed  with  such  as  I.  But,  before  I 
turn  back,  I  will  look  upon  her  once,  that  I 
may  remember  her  all  my  days.' 

"  So  saying,  he  plunged  into  the  icy  water. 
On  the  farther  shore  he  turned  to  look  once 
again  at  his  reflection.  Gray  hair  and  wrinkles 
had  disappeared.  He  was  young  and  hand- 
some as  when  he  set  forth  upon  his  journey. 

"Joyfully  he  sprang  up  the  mossy  bank  — 
gazed  long  and  rapturously  at  the  sleeping 
princess,  scarcely  daring  to  wake  her  —  then 
at  last  he  sank  on  his  knees  and  tenderly 
kissed  her. 

"The  princess  slowly  opened  her  eyes. 
f  Has  my  true  knight  ?'  — she  began  to  ask. 
Then  she  saw  the  prince  smiling  down  upon 
her,  and  in  her  own  eyes  was  no  fear  or  won- 
der —  only  a  great  peace. 
117 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

" f  You  have  come  at  last,'  she  murmured. 
'  It  is  for  you  I  have  long  waited.' 

"  And  he  folded  her  in  his  arms.  Then  "  — 

"  Ah,  let  us  stop  there,"  interrupted  David. 
"  That  is  such  a  good  place  to  leave  them." 

Constance  laughed. 

"And  you  don't  care  to  know  that  they 
lived  happily  forever  after?  Evidently  you 
don't  like  the  story  as  the  children  do." 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  can't  begin  to  like 
it  as  I  do.  Do  you  really  tell  them  this  same 
story  ? " 

"Almost  the  same,"  Constance  answered 
rather  dreamily.  "  One  naturally  varies  a  lit- 
tle to  suit  one's  hearers,  don't  you  think  so  ? 
I  suppose  I  tell  the  children  more  of  adven- 
ture and  you  more  of —  Why,  how  late 
it 's  getting.  You  know  we  promised  to  be 
prompt  at  luncheon." 

"  What  do  you  tell  me  more  of?  "  asked 
David. 

"  Suppose  we  run  down  the  mountain  on 
the  other  side,"  Constance  suggested. 
118 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

"  Have  you  ever  done  it  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  Have  you  an  idea  where  it  leads  ?  " 

"  Not  the  least." 

"  Then  let 's  do  it !  " 

From  the  mountain-top  they  looked  down 
upon  Constance's  toy  village,  and  the  wind- 
ing river  which  flowed  through  it.  Then, 
like  two  children,  they  caught  hold  of  hands, 
and  ran  laughing  down  the  mountain  side. 

In  the  valley  below  they  paused  for  breath. 

"  What  do  you  tell  me  '  more  of  ?  "  Da- 
vid demanded. 

But  Constance  only  laughed  at  him,  and 
said  that  they  must  hurry  home. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


III 


WONDER  if  there  are  two  sad- 
dle horses  to  be  found  in  the  vil- 
lage," Leighton  asked  one  day  at 
dinner. 

"Two  ?  "  Constance  queried. 
"  Yes  —  two.    You  ride,  of  course  ?  " 
"  I  guess  Si  Fletcher 's  got  two  prime  ones 
over  't  the   Red    Farm,"  their  host  volun- 
teered. 

"  Don't  you  take  his  word  for  it,  Mas- 
ter David,"  Nurse  Martin  interposed,  beam- 
ing across  the  table  as  she  spoke.  "He 
don't  know  a  saddle  horse  from  a  Jersey 
cow." 

"  Well,  I  'd  probably  find  one  as  agreeable 

to  ride  as  the  other,"  her  husband  admitted. 

"  But  Fletcher  has  got  two  good  uns  just  the 

same.    Don't  you  recollect,  Nancy,  how  he 

1 20 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

bought  'em  for  that  high-falutin  daughter 
of  his,  so  she  would  n't  be  lonesome  when 
she  come  home  from  college  ?  Well,  he  got 
her  a  man  to  ride  with  —  What  do  you  call 
him  ?  —  A  groom  ?  An'  that  girl  had  no 
sooner  got  the  hang  of  ridin'  than  off  they 
scooted  one  dark  night  —  eloped,  mind  you ! 
Si  found  the  horses  next  mornin'  twenty 
miles  away,  down  by  the  Barret  Station, 
where  the  couple  had  skipped  into  the  train 
for  Boston.  He  's  never  forgiven  'em,  so 
he 's  had  the  horses  on  his  hands  ever  since." 

"  Steve,  I  don't  think  that 's  a  nice  story 
to  tell  these  young  folks,"  his  wife  ob- 
jected. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  there 's  anythin* 
catchin'  in  it,"  Martin  answered.  "  I  guess 
the  horses  are  safe  as  any  others  for  that  mat- 
ter." 

They  were  all  laughing  merrily  as   they 

pushed  back  their  chairs  and  rose  from  the 

table.    In  fact,  laughter  was  a  frequent  guest 

at  these  simple  kitchen    meals  which  Con- 

121 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

stance  and  David  agreed  were  more  delight- 
ful than  any  dinner  they  had  ever  attended. 

Constance  had  tied  a  checked  apron  around 
her  waist,  and  was  bustling  about  the  kitchen 
with  an  air  of  importance  worthy  of  Nurse 
Martin  herself. 

"You  busy  people  put  me  to  shame," 
David  called  from  the  doorstep. 

He  and  Steve  were  enjoying  that  sense  of 
rest  which  belongs  to  the  noon  hour  on  the 
farm.  The  smoke  from  their  pipes  drifted 
lazily  through  the  open  doorway. 

"  I  'm  off  to  the  Red  Farm,"  he  called  a 
little  later,  "  to  get  those  eloping  horses." 

They  rode  together  all  that  glorious  after- 
noon, through  red  and  gold  woods,  dappled 
with  sunshine,  or  out  upon  open  stretches  of 
rolling   green.    And   always    beyond  —  ever 
changing  in  aspect  with  the  changing  shadows, 
from  gray  to  blue,  and  from  blue  to  purple 
—  stood  the  silent  hills. 
In  the  rough  wood  paths  the  horses,  with 

122 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

heads  bent,  picked  their  way  daintily  among 
fallen  trees  and  treacherous  holes.  Here 
their  riders,  letting  the  reins  hang  loose, 
talked  —  sense  or  nonsense,  as  they  felt  in- 
clined. Out  on  the  open  road  where  the 
horses  flung  their  heads  in  air  and  broke  into 
a  swinging  canter,  their  riders,  abandoning 
themselves  to  the  joy  of  motion,  fell  into 
happy  silences. 

After  a  mad  gallop  over  a  smooth  bit  of 
road  they  drew  rein  sharply  at  the  top  of  a 
steep  hill. 

"  Oh,  how  glorious !  "  Constance  cried. 
"  It  almost  consoles  one  for  the  lack  of 
wings." 

The  color  flamed  in  her  cheeks  and  her  eyes 
shone.  She  put  her  hand  to  her  hair,  which 
had  fallen  in  soft  confusion  in  her  neck. 

"That  last  wild  plunge  was  too  much  for 
my  poor  old  topknot,"  she  laughed.  "  We 
must  stop  for  repairs." 

The  man,  nothing  loath,  turned  in  his  sad- 
dle and  watched  her  seriously. 
123 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

"  I  always  wondered  how  you  got  all  those 
little  puffs  and  coils,"  he  said. 

"  It 's  very  simple,"  the  girl  answered 
lightly.  "  You  pat  it  here,  and  poke  it  there. 
Oh,  dear  !  "  Her  horse  had  stamped  an  im- 
patient foot,  and  a  rattling  sound  on  the 
stones  below  announced  the  sudden  descent 
of  her  hairpins. 

David  slipped  to  the  ground,  and  picked 
up  the  fallen  property. 

"  That 's  the  way,"  Constance  told  him, 
as  he  handed  the  pins  to  her  one  by  one. 
"  Those  little  ones  first.  Now  the  big  shell 
—  no,  the  dark  one.  Oh,  it 's  broken !  —  No 
wonder.  Now  the  combs.  That 's  it  —  first 
one,  then  the  other.  You  make  a  very  good 
lady's  maid." 

She  looked  laughingly  into  his  eyes,  then 
as  suddenly  looked  away. 

With  a  deft  pat  she  smoothed  the  last  un- 
ruly lock  into  place,  all  except  a  few  reckless 
curls  around  her  forehead,  which  refused  to 
be  restrained. 

124 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

"  Are  you  waiting  for  me  ? "  she  asked 
presently,  for  the  man  had  not  stirred.  "  I  'm 
ready." 

He  withdrew  his  eyes  abruptly,  and  turned 
away  from  her. 

"  I  was  n't  —  waiting,"  he  answered.  Then 
he  grasped  the  horses  firmly  by  their  bridles, 
and  helped  them  make  the  sharp  descent  of 
the  hill. 

How  strong  he  looked!  Constance  thought 
as  she  watched  his  broad  shoulders  and  well- 
set  head.  Now  he  pressed  back  against  her 
horse,  now  against  his  own  to  steady  them 
as  they  lost  footing  for  a  moment  on  the  roll- 
ing stones  !  The  descent  had  brought  them 
into  a  quiet  valley.  Above  them,  Pine  Moun- 
tain loomed  black  against  the  sky.  Below 
them,  undulating  meadows  swept  far  away  to 
the  eastward.  He  came  closer  to  her,  and 
rested  his  hand  on  her  horse's  neck.  She  quiv- 
ered with  the  consciousness  that  the  caress 
was  for  her. 

For  a  moment  the  little  group  stood  in 
125 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

silence.  The  horses  with  ears  delicately  pricked 
were  gazing  off  at  the  peaceful  landscape,  as 
though  seeking  some  sign  of  life. 

At  last,  impelled  against  her  will,  Con- 
stance's eyes  met  David's,  her  own  dark 
with  suppressed  feeling.  His  fingers  closed 
over  her  hand  as  it  lay  idle  upon  the  pom- 
mel. 

"  And  so  it  has  come,"  he  said  gently. 
"  It  had  to  come,  you  know." 

For  an  instant  they  remained  thus.  Then 
with  the  instinct  of  the  captured  creature 
Constance  turned  from  him,  and  drew  her 
hand  away.  When  she  spoke,  it  was  in  a 
faint  voice,  unlike  her  own. 

"  You  speak  as  though  you  thought  I 
cared,"  she  whispered. 

The  light  leaped  into  the  man's  eyes.  "  I 
don't  think ! "  he  answered.  "  I  know  !  Lis- 
ten !  "  he  went  on,  before  she  could  answer. 
"  It  is  n't  Constance  North,  the  cold  woman 
of  the  world,  and  David  Leighton,  practical 
man  of  affairs,  confessing  love  for  each  other. 
126 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

We  Ve  left  those  outer  shells  way  behind  us, 
down  there  somewhere.  It 's  our  real  selves, 
the  selves  that  have^grown  and  expanded  up 
here  in  the  warm  sunlight  and  the  pure  air, 
that  are  speaking  out.  Have  n't  you  felt  all 
along  how  we  Ve  been  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  —  until  at  last "  — 

Still  the  woman's  pride  held  her  in  leash. 

"You  take  my  love  for  granted,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  No  man  has  ever  done  that." 

• "  I  'm  sorry,"  David  answered  whimsically, 
"  that  I  compare  so  unfavorably  with  your 
other  experiences.  Perhaps  it 's  lack  of 
practice.  You  're  the  only  woman  I  ever 
loved. 

"  Why,  it  was  inevitable ! "  he  added 
quietly,  as  Constance  did  not  speak.  "God 
just  put  us  here  in  the  sunshine,  and  made  us 
love  each  other.  I  suppose  the  first  man  and 
the  first  woman  felt  the  same  way." 

In  Constance's  mind  arose  the  image  of 
men  and  women  who  had  loved  throughout 
the  ages.  Some  had  married  and  had  lived 
127 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

in  peace  together ;  others  Fate  had  kept 
apart.  These  last,  in  sad  procession,  seemed 
to  pass  before  her. 

"  What  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  "  she 
asked  tremulously. 

The  man  smiled.  Then  she  saw  that  she 
had  broken  down  the  barrier  which  she  had 
struggled  to  hold,  and  that  her  love  stood 
confessed. 

"  Do  about  it  ?  "  David  cried.  "  I  intend 
to  be  as  insanely  happy  as  any  man  has  a 
right  to  be  who  has  won  a  good  woman's 
love.  I  'm  going  to  keep  it  and  cherish  it. 
It  will  be  the  ruling  passion  of  my  life  "  — 
His  voice  broke.  "  As  long  as  I  live,"  he 
added  slowly. 

Constance  looked  down  into  his  upturned 
face,  at  the  blazing  eyes,  the  strong  chin,  and 
resolute  mouth.  His  spirit  swayed  hers,  and 
made  her  share  his  exaltation.  It  was  not  a 
time  for  questioning,  for  trying  to  fathom  the 
future.  In  that  vivid  moment  she  realized 
that  it  was  part  of  the  order  of  their  life  on 
128 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

the  mountain  peak  that  they  should  conceal 
nothing,  that  her  love  should  answer  his. 

David's  head  was  bowed  against  her  knee, 
and  she  rested  her  hands  upon  it. 

"  You  have  come  at  last,"  she  said  softly, 
and  unconsciously  she  used  the  words  in  the 
fairy  tale.  "  I  have  always  waited  for  you." 

Their  horses  moved  uneasily.  The  sun 
had  slipped  behind  the  hills,  and  the  twilight 
breeze  was  cool.  The  pines  rose  dark  against 
a  background  of  glowing  red. 

David  leapt  into  the  saddle,  and  they  set 
forth  at  a  gallop,  with  faces  turned  toward 
the  light. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 


IV 


|ND  it  is  all  coming  out  beauti- 
fully," Constance  was  saying.  "  It 
will  all  be  so  simple  ! " 

"  Simple,  my  dear,  because  you 
have  arranged  it  so  perfectly,"  Mrs.  Dean 
answered  warmly. 

She  could  not  raise  her  head  from  the 
couch,  but  she  smiled  into  Constance's  eyes, 
and  pressed  the  cool  fingers  which  clasped 
hers. 

"  Everybody  writes  so  encouragingly," 
Constance  continued.  "  They  all  seem  to 
understand  just  what  I  mean.  I  Ve  only 
to  make  the  final  arrangements  when  I  go  to 
town  Thursday,  then  we  shall  send  for  you, 
and  then  "  —  Constance  ran  on,  unfolding 
her  plans  as  she  had  done  in  her  letter  to 
David  that  day  on  Pine  Mountain. 
130 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

Mrs.  Dean  said  little,  but  wat.ched  in 
quiet  contentment  the  animated  face  so  close 
to  hers.  It  had  been  an  exciting  afternoon 
at  the  parsonage,  with  the  unusual  festivity 
of  two  visitors  at  tea,  and  now  she  was  con- 
tent to  lie  back  among  her  pillows  and  lis- 
ten. Presently  steps  sounded  upon  the  stairs. 

"  There  come  those  men  I  "  Constance 
exclaimed,  "  to  interrupt  us." 

Then  her  name  was  called  and  she  went 
swiftly  into  the  hall. 

"There  are  two  small  people  up  above," 
announced  the  minister,  "  who  refuse  to  go 
to  sleep  until  a  certain  lady  has  kissed  them 
good  night." 

"  We  Ve  done  our  best  to  make  up," 
David  affirmed,  "  but  they  still  foolishly 
persist  that  they  want  you." 

He  leaned  back  against  the  wall  to  let 
Constance  pass  him  on  the  narrow  staircase, 
and  they  smiled  into  each  other's  eyes. 

"  One  of  those  childish  fancies,"  Constance 
laughed  as  she  brushed  lightly  by  him.  "  And 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

to  think  that  we  're  just  as  important  to  them 
as  our  grown-ups  used  to  be  to  us  !  " 

A  little  later  she  came  down  among  them, 
her  hair  tumbled  and  her  cheeks  glowing. 
"  It 's  good  to  be  loved,"  she  said.  Appar- 
ently she  spoke  to  the  fire  which  the  minis- 
ter was  stirring,  for  the  October  twilight  was 
cool.  David,  however,  sitting  by  Mrs.  Dean's 
couch,  heard  and  flushed  in  the  darkness. 

Presently  when  they  rose  to  go,  Mrs.  Dean 
drew  the  girl's  head  down  to  hers  upon  the 
pillow. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear,  and  give  you  cour- 
age," she  whispered. 

The  minister  went  with  them  to  the  door. 
As  he  helped  Constance  with  her  wrap  he 
tried  to  form  a  polite  phrase  of  gratitude,  but 
he  stumbled  hopelessly. 

"  Take  care  !  "  the  girl  laughed.  "  You  're 
putting  me  into  the  wrong  sleeve."  Then 
their  fingers  met  in  an  understanding  clasp. 

He  pulled  David's  coat  into  place,  as  pre- 
text for  resting  his  hand  a  moment  on  the 
132 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

man's  shoulder.  "  No  need  to  say  good-by 
to  you"  he  said.  " We  '11  see  each  other 
again." 

"  Of  course,"  David  answered  heartily.  It 
was  easier  not  to  face  the  truth. 

Their  host  lingered  on  the  threshold. 
u  Won't  you  have  a  lantern  ? "  he  asked, 
peering  out  into  the  dusk. 

"  No  —  thanks,"  David  called  from  the 
path.  "  The  moon  will  soon  be  up." 

The  door  closed  and  the  patch  of  light  in 
which  they  had  stood  faded.  There  was  a 
frosty  breath  in  the  air.  David  settled  his 
chin  firmly  into  his  coat  collar,  and  set  out 
with  a  resolute  swing.  The  road  stretched 
before  them,  a  gleaming  strip  of  white,  and 
their  footsteps  rang  out  with  sharp  distinct- 
ness as  they  followed  it  in  silence.  Once 
David  asked  if  the  pace  were  too  rapid,  and 
Constance,  unwilling  to  admit  defeat,  answered 
that  it  was  not.  But  at  the  stile  where  they 
left  the  main  road  for  a  short  cut  through  the 
birch  woods  her  breath  came  unevenly.  She 
133 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

paused,  then  hurried  her  steps  to  follow  the 
dark  figure  striding  on  before  her. 

"  Look  out  for  the  rough  places  !  "  the  man 
said  over  his  shoulder.  But  at  that  moment 
she  tripped  on  a  stone,  stumbled,  and  fell. 

He  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant,  but  when 
he  would  have  drawn  her  to  her  feet,  she 
slipped  back  against  the  rock  where  she  had 
fallen. 

"  Just  let  me  sit  still  a  moment,"  she 
begged. 

"  Constance  ! "  he  cried,  bending  over  her. 
"  What  is  it  ?  Why,  you  're  crying  !  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  vaguely,  "  I  'm  cry- 
ing. I  don't  know  why." 

"  I  know,"  he  groaned.  "  I  Ve  tired  you 
out  —  I  'm  a  beast  —  I  did  n't  realize  "  — 

He  knelt  beside  her,  making  little  dabs  at 
her  cheeks  with  his  handkerchief,  but  they 
were  all  ineffectual  to  stem  the  torrent. 

"  No,"  Constance  murmured.  "  It  was  n't 
that.  It  was  like  Fate  —  following  blindly  on 
and  on — not  being  able  to  stop.  All  those 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

silent  years  to  come  seemed  to  stretch  before 
me."  She  pressed  her  hand  against  her  side. 
"  And  that  lonely  feeling,"  she  whispered. 

"  Lonely  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Why,  we  were  to- 
gether, dear." 

"  Were  we  ?  But  you  seemed  so  far  away. 
It  was  n't  the  real  you  —  that  big  still  thing 
towering  above  me." 

For  an  instant  she  clung  to  him  like  some 
wild  thing  seeking  shelter,  but  there  was  no 
response  in  his  touch,  and  she  drew  away. 

"  How  can  you  bear  it  ? "  she  asked  won- 
deringly. 

"  What?  "  he  answered  huskily,  because  he 
could  think  of  nothing  better  to  say. 

She  winked  away  the  tears  impatiently. 

"  Oh  !  all  — all,"  she  cried,  stretching  out 
her  arms.  "  Seeing  other  people's  homes, 
then  being  shut  out  into  the  darkness  — 
caressing  other  people's  children,  and  know- 
ing that  you  will  never  "  —  Her  voice  broke. 

"  Dear  child  it 's  different  with  us,"  the 
man  said.  Kneeling,  his  face  was  on  a  level 

135 


with  hers,  but  still  he  did  not  touch  her. 
"  This  has  been  a  wonderful  experience  — 
perfect  —  a  thing  by  itself —  four  weeks  out 
of  all  eternity  spent  together.  Don't  hurt  it 
by  wishing  it  different." 

"Oh!"  the  girl  cried  passionately.  "If 
you  care,  how  can  you  say  that  ?  You  make 
an  episode  of  it  —  something  without  past  or 
future.  To  be  real  it  must  have  its  roots  in 
our  very  being,  and  it  must  go  on  —  and 
on." 

"  It  will,"  the  man  answered,  "  but  in  our 
own  way,  not  in  the  usual  way  of  the  world. 
Listen,  dear." 

"  No,  no  !  "  the  girl  protested.  "  Don't 
speak  of  that  negative,  colorless  form  of  hap- 
piness that  we  have  to  make  for  ourselves 
when  we  can't  get  the  other.  Oh  !  I  'm  weary 
of  subterfuge  —  of  trying  to  persuade  myself 
that  I  can  do  without  what  other  women 
have.  Weary  —  weary  of  it,  I  say." 

Her  head  fell  forward  against  her  knees, 
and  for  a  few  moments  there  was  silence.  It 
136 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

was  the  man's  brief  touch  upon  her  hair  which 
roused  her. 

"  Constance,"  he  began  gently.  But  she 
drew  away,  and  in  her  eyes  was  a  hard  glitter 
which  he  could  not  bear  to  see.  She  seemed 
scarcely  to  notice  him. 

"  Must  the  cup  always  be  dashed  from  my 
lips  just  as  I  am  about  to  drink  ?  "  she  whis- 
pered. 

David  groaned.  The  sound  arrested  her, 
and  she  looked  at  him  sadly. 

"  I  know  what  you  're  thinking,"  she  said 
slowly,  "  that  we  've  been  granted  something 
which  comes  to  few  people.  I  know  it.  But 
I  would  choose  the  old,  usual  way.  I  can't 
be  of  much  use  to  the  world  in  general,  but 
to  love  "  — 

The  man  caught  at  a  straw  desperately. 

"  You  can  be  of  use,"  he  said.  "  Think 
what  you  have  done  !  " 

"  Yes,  you  have  buoyed  me  up  with  some 
unnatural  power.  Yesterday,  when  I  knew 
that  you  loved  me,  I  climbed  to  your  height 
137 


THE  SPIRIT  OF   THE   PINES 

for  a  little  while.  I  've  been  full  of  helping 
the  Deans  to-day  —  but  it  could  n't  last.  See 
how  it  has  left  me." 

She  stretched  out  her  hands,  and  they  were 
limp  and  nerveless. 

"  Strength  will  come  to  you,"  David  said 
gravely,  "if  you  demand  it." 

"  And  what  is  strength  ?  Is  n't  it  possible 
to  confuse  the  strength  which  can  renounce 
with  the  weakness  which  lacks  the  power  to 
hold?  It's  so  simple  to  give  up  when  one 
is  indifferent.  It 's  a  question,  /  say,  of  how 
much  one  cares.  Perhaps  you  " —  She  broke 
off  with  a  nervous  little  laugh.  "  Oh  !  I  'm 
absurd,"  she  cried,  "unmaidenly —  laying 
bare  these  poor  tattered  feelings.  But  it 's  a 
woman's  way  to  hold  desperately  to  what  she 
believes  to  be  hers.  A  man  can  put  aside  and 
forget." 

David  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Constance,  you   can't  think  that  ?  "    he 
cried,  "  when  you  know  that  we  have  touched 
the  real  —  you  and  I,  together." 
138 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

"What  is  real,  I  wonder?"  the  girl  said 
musingly.  "  Look  !  " 

She  had  risen  and  turned  from  him.  Da- 
vid's eyes  followed  the  direction  in  which  she 
was  pointing.  A  white  trail  of  mist  was 
shrouding  the  land.  In  its  clinging  folds  the 
outlines  of  valley,  hill,  and  sky  were  indistin- 
guishably  blended ;  and  partly  obscured  by 
a  filmy  veil  the  moon  gleamed  coldly. 

"  Look  at  Pine  Mountain  !  "  Constance 
cried,  "  looming  like  a  spectral  thing.  You 
can't  tell  where  its  peak  stops,  and  where  the 
clouds  begin.  You  think  you  are  looking  at 
something  substantial,  and  it  fades  away  into 
nothing.  That  is  the  way  with  —  life." 

"  Don't,  dear,"  David  begged,  going  to 
her  side.  "  Everything  is  weird  and  fantastic 
to-night.  Come  home." 

Her  eyes  met  his,  unseeingly  at  first, 
but  suddenly  life  came  back  to  them,  and  a 
new  expression,  indicating  a  swift  change  of 
mood,  flashed  across  her  face.  She  sprang 
from  him  toward  a  clump  of  white  birches 

139 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

which  stood  slim  and  silent  in  the  moonlight. 
In  her  dark  cloak,  her  figure  was  clearly  out- 
lined against  the  pale  tree-trunk.  The  white 
scarf  which  she  wore  about  her  head  had 
slipped  to  her  shoulders,  and  the  light  caught 
the  shining  tints  in  her  hair,  turning  it  —  as 
David  loved  to  see  it —  to  gold. 

The  instincts  prompting  this  action  were 
not  the  finest  in  her  nature,  yet  neither  did 
they  imply  a  feeling  essentially  unworthy. 
Hers  was  but  the  elemental  desire,  latent  in 
all  animal  nature,  to  attract  and  to  hold. 

"  Look  at  me,  David  !  "  she  cried,  flinging 
back  her  head,  and  with  the  motion  her  throat 
gleamed  like  a  round  white  column  in  the 
light.  "  /  am  real  —  alive  in  every  fibre  — 
the  woman  you  love !  " 

For  a  moment  the  man  watched  her  in 
silence.  His  face  was  stern  and  set.  Then 
he  went  to  her,  drew  the  scarf  over  her  hair, 
and  tied  it  with  firm  fingers. 

"  We  must  go,"  he  said. 

Suddenly  he  turned  from  her  shaken  by  a 
140 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

spasm  of  coughing,  violent  and  uncontrolla- 
ble. 

All  at  once  Constance  became  aware  that 
the  white  mist,  creeping'gradually  nearer,  was 
closing  in  around  them.  She  sprang  to  his 
side,  and  snatching  the  scarf  from  her  head, 
wrapped  it  around  his  neck. 

"  Fool ! "  she  cried  to  herself  bitterly. 
"  Selfish  fool !  Shall  I  ever  learn,  I  won- 
der?" 

She  slipped  her  hand  under  his  arm  to 
support  him.  To  help  him  was  her  one  de- 
sire. 

The  paroxysm  of  coughing  over,  he  would 
have  given  back  the  scarf,  but  she  refused  to 
take  it,  and  instead  drew  it  protectingly  across 
his  mouth. 

"  And  you  don't  object  to  walking  with  an 
animated  ghost  ?  "  he  asked  quizzically. 

"  Don't  talk,  dear  child,  in  the  dampness," 
she  begged. 

"  But  I  want  to  be  sure  you  're  with  me 
before  we  set  out  upon  this  sea  of  dreams." 
141 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

She  felt  that  he  was  fumbling  for  her  hand, 
and  she  slid  it  into  his.  In  silence  they  walked 
home  together. 

At  the  doorway  stood  Nurse  Martin,  peer- 
ing anxiously  into  the  darkness. 

"You  are  late,  children  dear,"  she  called, 
"  but  there  '11  be  a  hot  supper  ready  for  you 
in  a  minute." 

And  she  drew  them  into  the  light  and 
warmth. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 


JHEY  were  sitting  on  the  sunny 
porch  together — the  minister  and 
his  wife.  It  was  the  first  time  in 
many  weeks  that  the  invalid  had 
been  out  of  doors,  and  the  crisp  air  was  bring- 
ing back  the  color  to  her  cheeks. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  musingly,  as 
though  resuming  a  former  thread  of  conver- 
sation, "  whether  it 's  the  freedom  from  re- 
sponsibility, or  the  thought  that  I  shall  soon 
be  well,  that  makes  me  so  happy.  No," 
she  added,  sudden  radiance  dawning  in  her 
face,  "  it 's  the  knowledge  that  some  one 
cares  —  that  it  makes  a  real  difference  to 
some  one  whether  we  fall  under  our  burdens 
or  have  a  chance  to  rise  and  take  up  our  lives 
again." 

The  minister,  gazing  off  toward  the  shad- 

H3 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

owy  hills,  had  been  silently  planning  his  fare- 
well sermon  to  his  people,  and  yet  he  was 
quite  conscious  also  of  his  wife's  words.  He 
was  leaning  lightly  upon  the  arm  of  her  chair, 
and  now  he  turned  and  pressed  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  know,"  Mrs.  Dean  went  on 
slowly,  "when  she  first  made  the  offer  to  us, 
and  I  feared  that  with  that  dreadful  pride  of 
yours  you  would  refuse  it,  my  anxiety  was  n't 
so  much  for  us  as  for  her.  I  felt  that  it  was 
the  one  thing  that  could  save  her.  She 's  the 
sort  of  woman  who  must  pour  out  her  soul 
on  some  one." 

"  I  know,"  her  husband  answered.  "  And 
as  soon  as  I  realized  it,  that  demon  pride  was 
put  to  rout.  Tell  me,"  he  added  slowly, 
"did  she  say  anything  to  you  about  their  — 
plans  ? " 

"  Only  that  they  would  go  down  to  Bos- 
ton together  to-morrow,  that  she  would  go 
to  her  house  and  arrange  about  the  refur- 
nishing for  us,  and  that  he  would  leave  im- 
mediately for  the  West.  His  mother  and 
144 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   PINES 

sister  are  waiting  for  him  in  Colorado,  you 
know.  She  told  me  just  that  yesterday,  when 
you  and  he  were  upstairs,  and  it  seemed  more 
as  if  she  thought  I  would  like  to  know,  than 
that  she  wished  to  talk  about  it." 

The  minister  nodded.  "It  was  the  same 
with  him,"  he  said  reminiscently. 

"And  they  ask  no  advice,  and  need 
none,"  his  wife  said.  "Oh,  they  are  won- 
derful ! " 

"They  have  learned  what  the  Master 
meant,"  her  husband  answered  dreamily, 
"  when  he  said,  f  If  any  man  will  come  after 
me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross,  and  follow  me.' ' 

But  the  woman's  thoughts  were  on  tem- 
poral things. 

"  Oh,  think  of  the  years — the  empty  years 
—  they  will  be  in  the  same  world,  breathing 
the  same  sunny  air"  —  she  stretched  out  her 
arms  to  it  —  "  and  yet  not  together  ! " 

" c  For  whosoever  will  save  his  life  shall 
lose  it,  and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for 
H5 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

my  sake,  shall  find  it,' "  murmured  the  min- 
ister. 

His  thoughts  were  still  weaving  themselves 
into  the  sermon. 

There  was  a  shout  from  outside.  The  chil- 
dren, ruddy  and  glowing  with  exercise,  were 
playing  together  on  the  lawn. 

"  I  'm  a  polo  bear !  "  called  Lucy,  "  and 
Jackie's  a  hippypottymus,  and  he's  trying 
to  climb  onto  my  cake  of  ice  !  " 

Tears  rushed  into  the  mother's  eyes,  for 
she  was  still  weak,  and  a  very  little  thing 
would  upset  her. 

"  Oh,  my  dear ! "  she  said,  putting  her  hand 
on  her  husband's  arm, "  with  all  our  poverty 
and  anxiety  and  illness,  think  how  lucky  we 
are,  for  we  have  each  other — and  them  ! " 


THE   SPIRIT  OF   THE  PINES 


VI 


was  on  Pine  Mountain  that  their 
last  tryst  was  kept.  No  word  had 
been  given,  and  yet  as  Constance 
climbed  the  leafy  path,  dappled 
with  sunshine  and  shadow,  she  knew  that 
David  soon  would  follow. 

The  faithful  Sandy  acted  as  body-guard, 
and  now  and  again  he  turned  to  look  wistfully 
down  toward  the  valley,  then  came  back  to 
her  side  whimpering  softly. 

All  day  there  had  been  sounds  which  he 
had  distrusted.  Early  in  the  morning  trunks 
were  brought  from  the  attic,  and  after  that 
there  was  much  hurrying  to  and  fro.  Drear- 
ily he  had  left  the  room  where  one  of  his  com- 
panions was  at  work,  only  to  find  the  other 
plunged  in  the  same  occupation  on  the  floor 
above.  After  dinner,  a  quieter  meal  than 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

usual,  the  farmer  had  forgotten  to  feed  him. 
Altogether,  the  household  seemed  demoral- 
ized. 

Now,  suddenly,  all  his  woes  were  forgot- 
ten. Even  before  Constance  could  hear  it, 
his  quick  ears  detected  a  faint,  far-away  stir. 
All  eager  he  bounded  down  the  path,  then 
back  to  her,  with  glad  barks,  proclaiming, 
"  See  what  I  've  brought  you.  Now  let 's  be 
happy  !  "  And  they  were.  For  of  the  frail- 
ties of  the  human  mind,  one  of  the  most 
blessed  -is  its  tardiness  to  recognize  a  crisis. 
Afterwards  one  looks  back  and  wonders  how 
the  eyes  could  have  shone  and  the  lips  have 
smiled. 

All  through  the  afternoon  they  rambled 
over  the  mountain  together,  exploring  their 
favorite  haunts,  and  even  discovering  new 
fastnesses.  And  they  talked  of  many  things 
—  of  most  things  —  except  the  fact  that  they 
were  soon  to  part. 

They  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  mountain 
to  see  the  sunset  —  a  glorious  pageant  of 
148 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

purple  and  gold,  then  Constance  said  that 
Nurse  would  be  expecting  them  and  they 
must  go.  But  David  laughed,  and  shook  his 
head  mysteriously. 

"  I  was  wise,"  he  said,  and  he  led  her  to  a 
spot  among  the  bushes  where  a  basket  was 
concealed. 

In  fact,  Sandy's  critical  nose  was  already 
showing  signs  of  interest. 

Constance  stared  in  amazement. 

"  Did  you  arrange  it  all  this  morning,  and 
bring  it  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Don't  be  so  prosaic!"  David  begged. 
"  It 's  a  gift  from  the  fairies,  and  here  is  our 
table  all  flat  and  smooth,  waiting  to  be 
spread." 

"  It  will  be  growing   cold  when  the  sun 
goes  down,"  Constance  objected. 
'  "  We  '11  build  a  bonfire." 

"  But  going  home  "  — 

"You  mind?" 

"  Oh  !  not  for  myself." 

"  There  's  not  a  bit  of  dampness  in  the  air, 
149 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

and  I  never  felt  better  in  my  life,"  he  as- 
sured her.    "  Come  and  gather  up  sticks." 

They  brought  armfuls  of  dry  leaves,  and 
brown  pitchy  pine  cones  which  were  sure  to 
sputter  and  smell  deliciously,  twigs  and 
branches  of  all  sizes,  and  lastly  some  big  logs 
which  they  tugged  together  to  make  the  bur- 
den lighter. 

Then  they  sank  down  on  the  soft  carpet 
of  pine  needles,  laughing  and  breathless.  It 
was  the  same  spot  where  they  had  come  on 
their  first  ramble,  and  they  leaned  against 
the  big  fallen  pine — Constance's  early  friend 
—  for  support. 

"  You  poor  old  thing  !  "  the  girl  said,  pat- 
ting its  bark  sympathetically.  "  I  'm  only 
sorry  for  you  now  !  " 

Her  hat  had  slipped  back  upon  her  head, 
and  the  bronze  hair  was  escaping  in  little 
joyous  curls.  Perhaps  it  was  something  in 
the  man's  face,  watching  hers  so  eagerly, 
which  made  her  spring  rather  suddenly  to 
her  feet. 

150 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

"  Don't  you  feel  hungry  ? "  she  asked 
practically.  "  Don't  you  think  it 's  time  for 
supper  ? " 

She  pinned  her  hat  to  a  branch  and  turned 
back  her  cuffs. 

"When  one  is  doing  housework  one 
does  n't  want  anything  in  the  way,"  she  ex- 
plained. 

"  You  don't  mean  me,  do  you  ? "  David 
asked. 

They  drew  the  basket  from  its  cubbyhole, 
and  unpacked  it  together,  laughing  over  each 
new  discovery. 

"This  is  all  Nurse's  doing,"  David  said,  as 
he  handed  out  a  chicken,  robust  and  beau- 
tifully brown.  "Wouldn't  you  know  it? 
When  she  asked  me  what  we  would  like,  I 
said  just  to  have  it  a  '  s'prise '  the  way  she 
used  to  give  us  boys  when  we  went  camping 
in  the  back  yard." 

"  Did  she  do  that  for  you,  too  ?  "  Con- 
stance queried,  raising  her  eyes  from  the 
basket  to  look  at  him  eagerly.  "She  was 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

always  arranging  them  for  me  in  the  garden, 
and  for  ever  so  long  I  thought  it  was  the 
fairies." 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ? "  David  laughed. 

He  was  lifting  out  a  plate  of  thin  bread 
and  butter  sandwiches,  heaped  generously 
high.  Then  there  were  jams  and  fresh  gin- 
gerbread, and  a  complete  equipment  for  tea- 
making. 

"  Nursie  never  would  let  her  children  live 
on  cold  food  alone,"  Constance  said. 

She  had  spread  a  snowy  cloth,  and  David 
with  a  critical  eye  was  arranging  the  dishes 
upon  it. 

As  the  dusk  closed  in  around  them  they 
lighted  the  bonfire  and  ate  their  supper  in 
the  cheerful  glow.  Sandy  sitting  close  at 
hand  was  rewarded  with  choice  bits  from  the 
feast,  and  when  his  companions  occasionally 
became  too  absorbed  to  notice  him,  he  re- 
minded them  of  his  presence  by  a  gentle 
nudge  with  his  cold  nose.' 

"  Two  's  company  —  eh,  old  boy  ? "  Da- 
152 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE  PINES 

vid  said  cheerfully,  and  he  tossed  him  a  bit 
of  chicken  which  Sandy  deftly  caught. 

"  Dear  old  boy  !  "  Constance  whispered, 
burying  her  face  in  the  dog's  neck.  "  Who 
will  love  you  like  this,  when  we  're  gone  ? " 

The  fire,  brilliant  at  first,  had  burned  low, 
and  they  were  staring  in  silence  into  its  glow- 
ing embers.  Constance  leaned  against  the 
tree-trunk,  and  David  lay  curled  on  the 
ground  in  a  posture  almost  as  easy  as  Sandy's 
own. 

"  We  're  just  a  part  of  it,"  the  man  mused 
aloud.  "  J  ust  a  little  part  of  this  great  nature 
scheme,  and  to-morrow  we  shall  slip  away  and 
be  forgotten." 

A  burning  brand  fell  from  the  fire,  flash- 
ing a  tongue  of  flame  into  the  darkness. 

David  gave  a  sudden  start. 

"  Constance !  "  he  cried,  "  we  can't.  We 
belong  here  together  —  you  and  I." 

He  put  his  hand  on  hers,  and  in  his  touch 
was  that  which  made  her  draw  away. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE  PINES 

She  looked  at  him  gravely  —  a  look  which 
bore  no  earthly  desire. 

"  I  thought  so  last  night,"  she  said,  "  but 
to-night  I  have  changed.  I  know  better." 

"  And  to-night  /  have  changed,"  the  man 
cried.  "  I  was  keeping  my  real  self  under  as 
I  have  all  along  —  crushing  out  the  best  and 
the  natural  because  I  thought  it  was  right. 
Oh,  dear  heart !  it  is  n't  meant  that  we 
should  suffer  so  —  that  we  who  have  been 
coming  to  each  other  all  these  years  should 
give  up  our  love  at  last." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  came  close  to 
her. 

"  Look  up,  dear,  at  those  wonderful  stars," 
he  whispered.  "  They  seem  to  belong  to  us 
—  here.  I  think  they  looked  down  on  us  in 
fairyland,  when  we  played  there  together." 

There  was  a  sound  in  the  treetops.  A  late 
bird  was  calling  to  his  mate.  Then  again  all 
was  silent,  save  for  the  wind  in  the  branches. 

Constance  did  not  speak  and  the  man  went 
on  passionately. 


THE  SPIRIT   OF  THE  PINES 

"  I  had  to  act  as  I  did.  I  had  to  take 
almost  a  false  position  to  establish  a  true  one 
—  to  make  myself  out  cold  and  hard  to  rouse 
you.  I  knew  the  spirit  was  there.  No  one 
entirely  crushed  could  have  written  the  letters 
you  did.  And  soon  that  wonderful  courage 
of  yours  asserted  itself.  But  that  time  of 
struggle  and  growth  is  past.  Now  " — 

"  There  must  be  no  *  now,'  "  Constance 
whispered.  "  It  is  all  a  part  of  the  great 
whole." 

"  No,  no !  "  the  man  cried.  "  Now  it  is 
different.  I  want  to  make  up  for  the  harsh 
treatment.  I  want  just  to  love  you  dear,  on 
and  on  till  the  end  —  to  give  you  what  God 
meant  you  to  have.  Think  what  it  would 
be!" 

She  was  very  close  to  him,  and  he  felt  that 
she  quivered,  but  still  she  did  not  speak. 

"  Listen,  dear !  "  he  said,  lowering  his 
voice.  "  I  'm  not  talking  mere  idle  words. 
Look  through  the  trees." 

In   the  valley  below,  they  could   see  the 

155 


THE  SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

lights  in  the  houses,  twinkling  out  one  by 
one. 

"Think  of  the  happy  people  there.  Why 
should  that  be  denied  us  ?  Look  at  the  grassy 
hill  above  the  village.  The  minister  will 
marry  us,  and  we  will  build  our  little  house 
and  live  there.  We  won't  mind  the  winter 
snows.  We  '11  tramp  through  them,  and  love 
them.  And  then  the  spring  will  come  green 
and  beautiful.  Oh!  there  must  be  several 
winters  and  springs  to  come  for  us  "  — 

Constance  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  You  are  going  to  Colorado,"  she  said,  and 
her  voice  was  cold  and  colorless.  "Your 
mother  and  sister  are  waiting  there  for 
you." 

"And  is  my  duty  to  them,  and  not  to 
you?" 

"  It  is  partly  to  yourself.  The  doctor  said 
that  you  might  live  there  for  some  years." 

She  spoke  as  one  in  a  dream. 

"  And  what  is  length  of  years  ? "  David 
cried.  "  What  is  a  pale  existence  out  there  — 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

dragging  on  and  on  —  compared  to  a  little 
while  here  —  with  you  ?  " 

He  drew  her  hands  from  her  face,  and  with 
his  own  encircled  her  cheeks.  He  looked 
long  and  earnestly  into  her  eyes  and  would 
have  kissed  her,,  but  that  they  mutely  forbade 
him. 

"  Last  night  you  would  have  let  me,"  he 
murmured,  releasing  her  at  last.  "And  to- 
night when  I  will  "  — 

She  laughed  softly,  the  tension  over. 
"  Isn't  it  always  so?  "  she  said. 

"  Constance !  "  the  man  cried,  "  what  is  it 
that  has  changed  you  so  ?  " 

"You,"  she  answered.  "Think  dear. 
You  've  forgotten  yourself  for  an  instant.  It 's 
only  natural  —  the  reaction  after  a  long  strain. 
But  you  've  been  too  good  a  teacher.  What 
I  Ve  been  learning  and  learning  all  these 
weeks  I  could  n't  forget,  and  now  when  it 's 
needed"  — 

"In  my  time  of  weakness,"  David  mur- 
mured. 

157 


THE   SPIRIT   OF   THE   PINES 

He  flung  himself  down,  burying  his  face  in 
the  piny  earth.  When  he  raised  it  the  passion 
was  gone. 

"You've  saved  me  from  myself,"  he  said. 

"  As  you  saved  me  last  night,"  she  an- 
swered. 

He  touched  her  hand,  and  it  was  cold. 

"  Where  are  your  feelings  ? "  he  asked 
wonderingly. 

"All  gone.  I  have  no  more.  It's  better 
so." 

But  her  voice  belied  her. 

Then  because  of  the  subtle  change  which 
had  come,  she  let  him  put  his  arm  around 
her  and  draw  her  head  against  his  shoulder. 

The  moon  peered  down  through  the  wav- 
ing treetops.  The  night  air  blew  coldly  about 
them.  At  last  she  stirred  in  his  arms. 

"  Shall  it  be  good-night  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  dear  —  good-night." 

And  they  kissed  each  other.  But  it  was 
not  born  of  earthly  things.  It  was  the  kiss  of 
renunciation. 

158 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   PINES 

As  they  climbed  down  the  mountain  to- 
gether, they  spoke  but  once. 

"  I  was  a  brute  to-night,"  David  said. 

"  No,"  Constance  answered,  "  you  were 
human." 


(3Ebe  CtiiiersiDc  press 

Electrotyped  and  printed  by  H.  O.  Haiighton  &*  Co. 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


A    000  051  447     1 


